


The Military Lord and the Hero's Creation

by gatekat, Starsheild (StarRise)



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Abortion, Arranged Marriage, Birth, Bonding, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, First Time, M/M, Mechpreg, Minor Character Death, Noble Setting, Sex: Tactile, Spark Sex, Sparklings, Sticky Sex, historical setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-24
Updated: 2012-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-08 10:28:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 167,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatekat/pseuds/gatekat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarRise/pseuds/Starsheild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuity Mashup. Jazz/Prowl<br/>Pre-war AU.  When Jazz is forced to bond with a higher-ranking noble sight unseen, he fears his freedom is over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Matchmaker's Contract

**Author's Note:**

> Praxians are the tri-wing design:   
> [  
> Tri-Wing Prowl by Alteride](http://gatekat.deviantart.com/art/Tri-Wing-Prowl-by-Alteride-261651115) by [Gatekat](http://gatekat.deviantart.com/) on [DeviantArt](http://www.deviantart.com)

Sunflash strode through the gates of the main compound, optics sweeping around the well-appointed courtyard in appreciation. It was orderly and precise, as she would expect of the House of the Shining Sun, the premier military power of Praxus and supposedly second only to the ruling house in the providence.

Guards met her optics and nodded their helms in respect and acknowledgement of her right to be here as servants went about their business, working quickly and efficiently without looking hurried. This was the home of their lord, and here they belonged.

The mech that met her on the steps was obviously a step above the rest as he bowed in welcome. "Matchmaker, my lord's house is honored by your presence. If you would come this way please?"

"All honor to the lord of the house." Sunflash responded and offered a small bow in return, straightening to follow the servant through the halls of the main house, her private respect for the Lord Bladedrift growing. The ancestral home of the House of the Shining Sun declared the glory and might of the House in a way that was both subtle and elegant, and she almost regretted the end of her walk as the servant announced her arrival.

The mech that greeted her at the door to the lord's office chamber was clearly one of the political creations of the House, even if she had not recognized the Lord Heir Prowl on sight. He was a stunning mech, his simple black and white primary finish highlighted by red and gold and long, perfectly crafted sensor wings with all three panels and the flight edges of a noble, even though he couldn't fly.

"Thank you for indulging our request on such short notice, Matchmaker Sunflash," Prowl's rich baritone suited his frame and position as the next Lord of the Shining Sun. "Please come in," he stepped to the side and ushered her into a room that had seen energon spilt, peace made and powerful Lords broken. The very spark of the House's power.

"It is my pleasure to serve the Lord of the House of the Shining Sun and his Heir." Sunflash replied as she stepped inside and bowed to the lord seated across the room. Looking at the perfectly polished black mech with white and red markings, you would never know that he was unlikely to see the next century. He still exuded power befitting his title.

Only the fact that he did not stand to greet her, instead bowing slightly from where he sat behind the grand desk and the faint tinge of gray at the tips of his sensor wings indicated the true state of his health.

Beyond him stood his mate, a quite presence of rich red with silver and white highlights and a line of golden glyphs proclaiming his status as the First Bonded of the Lord of the Shining Sun and a minor priest of Primus. All three were Praxian and proud of it.

She was here because what they sought was not to be found in Praxus.

"Please make yourself comfortable," Lord Bladedrift spoke, his deep baritone unaffected by his condition.

"I am honored by the House." Sunflash acknowledged, taking the indicated seat gracefully. "What may I do to serve it in return?"

Not that there was any doubt why she had been called, but formality demanded formality. Only once that had been seen to could both sides go into the true reason for their meeting.

"My heir requires a suitable mate to produce a sparkling before I return to Primus," the old mech said calmly as his creation came to stand by his side. "Timing and other issues have removed those options from Praxus. Those who you have worked for in the past have spoken highly of your ability to make difficult matches quickly. The results I have seen bear this reputation out."

"The Lord is most kind." Sunflash murmured, bowing lower than before in acknowledgement of his compliment, and the added pressure. While it was true she was able to work with, in fact enjoyed, a challenge, she had never been called upon to create one for such an important House.

Straightening, shrewd optics settled on the Heir. "I will do my best. If I might know in detail what is being sought in a mate?"

While there was a list of almost standard traits that all noble houses required, she wanted to take into account the preferences of the mech she was to create the match for as well. It was a key feature in making a successful long-term match and the foundation of her reputation. Already she had a list of potential matches, some here in Praxus that the House might not have even known were available, but if the Heir had an aversion to aerial frames, or preferred mechs over femmes, those were the details that had allowed her to be so successful and she needed to know.

"In addition to the House requirements you were sent," Prowl spoke smoothly and calmly. "I prefer the Praxian frame, though I understand that is unlikely," he flared his sensor wings in indication what he enjoyed. "I have a mild preference for an untouched mate, though I do not consider it important. I require a mate that will produce many strong, intelligent, healthy sparklings for the House beyond the heir I require now. I would be grateful for a mate who can hold their own in a warrior House, with a quick wit, intelligence and education comparable to my own."

Sunflash quickly accessed Prowl's file from memory, noting his education level and interests. That reduced the list of available mecha some, a few of them endowed with far better frames than processors. As befitting the reputation of his heritage, the Lord Heir was far more concerned with practical needs of the future and smooth functioning than appearances.

A mech that was able to produce heirs was a standard requirement, but the Heir's stated preference to have multiple creations eliminated one with a weaker spark, and several more were moved to the bottom and marked as last choices based on what she knew of their more amorous habits. If the Heir wished an untouched mate, he was very unlikely to be one who tolerated his mate having frequent lovers. It was a mark of a possessive nature.

Praxian framed..."Does the Heir have a preference between mechs and femmes?" She asked.

"A mech, Matchmaker, though only if all other traits are comparable," Prowl responded easily. "A strong frame is important in a warrior House."

The Praxian femme was eliminated. While he might accept her, she was of Crystal City and had almost no armor or sturdy structure. Beautiful, with a quick wit and one of the best educations on Cybertron, but she would not manage to survive any form of rough handling.

After a few more moments of consideration Sunflash had the list narrowed considerably. Red optics traveled between the three mechs of the House. Two pairs of gold and one of white looked back. "Are there any other preferences before I offer what I have compiled?"

Lord Bladedrift looked at his creation, and Prowl canted his wings slightly in the negative.

"You have all requirements and preferences, Matchmaker," The Lord told her.

Sunflash considered everything she had to work with. There were several that fit all of the guidelines, but none of them seemed _right_. With an internal sigh she searched again, and paused as another profile popped up.

It was one that she had almost given up on, but as she looked the Heir... If the House was willing... The only requirement the candidate did not meet was the one stating that match needed to come from an equal house. If they rejected the first two she proposed, she would offer him. The worst that could happen was that they rejected him as well.

"Adding in the Heirs preferences, I have several choices," she placed a holoprojector on the desk and brought up the first profile. Though to most the three gave no reaction, she had spent a very long functioning reading unreadable mecha. The lord and his heir found the Iaconian acceptable, but the lord's mate did not.

She gave them enough time to make the assessment and brought up the next mech, a Seeker from Vos. His wings were spread proudly, a gleaming white finish accented by a fair amount of red and some blue, with bright red optics and a very handsome black face.

Though nearly inaudible, she heard the heir hiss in displeasure, very personal displeasure. He knew Starscream, and did not like him at all.

"Are there any others?" Lord Bladedrift asked politely.

Sunflash nodded respectfully. "I have another for the House to consider."

The next image that rose to life was a smaller mech with a frame of white and black, very complimentary to the Heir's. A blue visor spanned a face accented with a smile that had only ever promised trouble for the matchmaker and, she was starting to believe, his creators. Sensory horns adorned the dark helm, adding even more personality to the mech, and the image shifted to a full frame rotation revealing blue accent marks to set off the primary coloration.

A smaller, secondary screen rose up, listing every fact they could possibly want to know about the mech hovering before them. His activation date, home province, education, interest, hobbies, House, creators, ranking in the line of inheritance and what he was expected to inherit. On the next screen were his medical records, since the ability to produce many creations was important to this contract.

What it didn't list was all the trouble the rebellious mech got into, and that she had been paid well to not list. Yet after meeting him, she had quickly seen that while he was a dissapointment to his creators, he had a good spark and nothing wrong in his programming other than a limited ability to follow orders when upset. It was something she was sure would mellow with age and responsibility.

"Jazz," Prowl spoke the designation, tasting it as if it would tell him something.

And perhaps it did, Sunflash quickly amended her thoughts. Prowl was of a rank and station where the skill of designation reading might well be one he had mastered.

"He does not have the status," Prowl said coolly.

"His creator is a great hero who holds the Prime's Honor," Lord Bladedrift countered, considering the image and information. "He would be a fine addition to our lineage."

"Then I have no objection," Prowl said quickly, and it was the truth.

"His contract is open." Sunflash informed them, the slight tension in her frame easing as her last offering was accepted. "Shall I make known your interest to his creators?"

Provided both sides agreed to the match there were things that she might yet be called upon to negotiate, or that the Houses might choose to negotiate between themselves. Bond price, ceremony, engagement periods, and those were just a few of the most common details.

"Yes, Matchmaker," Lord Bladedrift inclined his helm to her, permission and request of her continued services expressed in the simple, graceful motion.

The preliminary details were quickly arranged, and the golden femme bowed low, thanking the lord for the graciousness of his house and promising to bring word as soon as she received it, that full negotiations might begin.

* * *

A blue visor shifted upward, taking in the gates of the compound as Jazz paused before it. To most they would have meant safety, protection, serving as another sign of the might and power of the family they defended. To him, they were just the entrance to his own personal prison. He didn't want to be here. He'd done his best- successfully- to get out of every arrangement that the matchmaker had managed to bring to his creators. But never before had she brought an offer from a mech that was willing to accept him without ever seeing or speaking to him in person. Negotiations had been made and contracts drawn up and signed before Jazz had found out what was going on, and by then it had been too late.

Not even he, wild, rebellious creation that he was, would bring the dishonor on his House and Family of breaking a signed contract. Honor which had led him here, across the greater span of two provinces, to the House of the Shining Sun.

He would have stood there, delaying his fate for as long as possible, were it not for the gentle nudge from behind urging him onward. "Best get it over with Jazz." The older mech murmured, optics sweeping around the busy street, constantly on alert for any danger to his charge.

Steelplate had been Jazz's friend and mentor since the orn Jazz had discovered he could slip out of the compound unnoticed. The old mech had taught the youngling all the tricks Jazz knew. Had drug him back for his lessons when no one else could find him and convinced him that the education was worth the effort it required. Had listened when Jazz needed to talk and offered sound advice in return, without judgment.

And even he was leaving in a metacycle. Leaving Jazz alone in this new prison. With a sigh Jazz lifted a pede and set it down over the threshold, a turning point in his functioning he hoped never to make.

"Greetings Jazz," a rich baritone drew the visored gaze to a fine example of the Praxian design dominated by a white and black finish accented by red and gold. "Was your journey a safe one?"

For a split second Jazz stared as he identified the mech before him as his future mate, a mech had until now only ever seen in holovids.

A mech that had come out to greet him, against _custom_. "Safe and swift, Heir Prowl." Jazz responded with a small incline of his helm, visor shining hopefully.

"I am pleased to hear," Prowl responded with a slight shift of his slender, elegantly long and dexterous wings. "Come, I will show you to your suite so you may begin to settle before the evening meal."

Despite the very easy way it could have been an order, there was no form of demand in the words; it was a request, an offer.

Jazz shared a quick look with his guardian, and the older mech was relived to note that some of the rebellious fear was starting to ease out of his young charge. A frightened or angry Jazz was a difficult Jazz, and a flightily one, and to have him run now could only spell disaster.

With a signal to the servants the old mech turned to follow his charge and his charge's intended into the grand central house of the estate. To Steelplate, there were many good signs of the character of the House as they were led deep into the building. It was as well kept as it was well appointed. The servants had the good color and smooth movements of being well fed and maintained. Their finish, while not kept to the level of the mech leading them, displayed pride in their station and the House they served.

Even better was that while all bowed and showed the Lord Heir proper respect, none flinched from him or showed a sign of the particular fear that mistreatment brought. If the servants were treated well, there was a strong possibility that his intended would at least respect Jazz as well.

His charge's interest in his surroundings, while very subtle, was clear to the old mech who had watched him grow. Jazz was taking everything in and did not yet seem overly distressed by the differences from home that surrounded him.

A turn brought them to another courtyard, much smaller, and the lord Heir led them across it without faltering, the statues and arrangements as familiar to him as walking, though freshly tended in preparation for Jazz arrival.

Steelplate was impressed again as he figured out the arrangement, the courting suite attached to the main compound but separate enough to offer privacy as well.

The very fact that there _was_ a courting suite was a pleasant surprise. Accepting a bonding contract without ever meeting the other mech was not typically a sign of a mech who cared about anything but appearances. Perhaps the reputation of this House as brutally logical and unrelenting toward enemies and allies alike was somewhat undeserved.

"This side is your, Jazz," Prowl addressed his intended as he indicated a door and offered the other black and white a physical key and stepped aside to allow Jazz to unlock and open the door himself.

The key was accepted in silence, Jazz slightly surprised at the actual weight in his hand before he unlocked the door and looked inside. The first thing that caught his attention in the sparsely furnished room was that it wasn't empty. A well-built Praxian femme with the single wing panel of a free servant stood in the center of the room. Her optics were respectfully downcast, but not enough to hinder her ability to pick out who was at the door.

"This is Evening Bronze, the personal servant I have assigned for you," Prowl introduced the burnished bronze and maroon colored mecha.

"Thank you." Jazz nodded, the small motion polite acceptance and thanks. He had been privy to most of the details of the contract, and known that none of the servants from his own house were going to remain with him. The fact that he had been assigned one, giving the status of the House of the Shining Sun and his potential status within it, was something that he should have expected.

"Evening Bronze." The femme lifted her optics as Jazz spoke, his repetition of her designation acknowledgement of his acceptance of her services and her right to be there.

"I will leave you to refresh yourself and settle," Prowl spoke smoothly. "I will return in three joors to show you to the dining hall and present you to my creators."

Jazz hesitated, wavering with an answer and finally nodding in acceptance. Steelplate's frown of disapproval did not escape him, but he said nothing as Prowl departed, only turned and went to inspect the rest of his suite.

This first room was open to be personalized according the individual taste of the mech using it, either as an office or recreational room. It also was intended to serve as buffer between the common areas and the berthroom that Jazz could see off to his right.

Knowing that Steelplate would see to the servants Jazz crossed to the berthroom, curious. This was furnished more generously, a large berth dominating the room, a chair and side table off in a corner with a smaller lighting fixture, and some tasteful artwork arranged around the space.

Two small doors were set into another wall, one for storage he assumed, and another for private wash facilities.

"Would Lord Jazz like energon or to be detailed before the evening meal?" Evening Bronze asked quietly when his gaze came to briefly rest on her.

"Yes." Steelplate answered as he entered the room, optics softening a little as they settled on the small mech. 

"You'll want both." He told Jazz firmly. "You want to make a good impression when you meet your mate's creators for the first time, which means looking your best. It also means not acting like you haven't refueled since this morning before we started traveling."

Evening Bronze glanced at Jazz, confirming that he wasn't going to counter his servant-caretaker's statement before slipping from the room to fetch the energon.

For a long moment the two mecha just looked at each other. Finally Steelplate sighed. "You could at least try."

Jazz sighed. "I'm here and I'm not snapping at him. It's not like it'll make a difference. He's going to breed me until I extinguish like some prize animal."

"He expressed a desire for a large family, but I severely doubt his desires will be filled at the cost of your health." Steelplate pointed out, moving closer to the mech that in his spark was the creation he never had. Jazz's field was full of misery, not unlike what it was like when his sparker's second mate had been going at him when his sparker wasn't around.

"The contract is signed," Jazz muttered, his frame slumping dejectedly. "He's not going to like me any better than anyone else."

"He's certainly not if you don't give him a chance." Steelplate pointed out. "At least get to know him before you decide you don't like him. He did make a point of meeting you himself, instead of waiting for the formal introduction tonight." The large mech reminded him gently.

"I guess that makes up for buying me like some high priced breeder slave," Jazz spat, too hurt inside that his sparker would agree to the match to see reason.

Or hear Evening Bronze enter with his energon until she gasped.

"Jazz." Steelplate rumbled warningly, walking the edge of impropriety now that there was another present. "Honor to the House." He reminded.

Red optics met the femme's soft pink as he reached for the energon. "Fuel. You'll feel better clean and with some energy."

Jazz would have cringed if it wouldn't have made things even worse. He accepted the cube and offered an apology to his surrogate creator in the silence of their fields as he drank.

"Do you wish to detail Lord Jazz?" Evening Bronze asked Steelplate softly. "I promise you, the Lord Heir did not buy him as a slave, nor to breed him as an animal. He is a good mech ... and we have both slaves and prisoners to breed for warriors or additional creations if it came to that."

"Give him a chance." Steelplate repeated before stepping back and making room for Evening Bronze to go to work. There was nothing that was going to convince the young mech until Jazz saw the truth for himself.

"He needs to look better than I can manage tonight." He admitted quietly.

"Of course," she smiled at the much older mech. "I will ensure he is presentable to the House Lords. If Lord Jazz would come with me," she offered smoothly, motioning towards the washrack room door.

The young mech finished off the cube, handing it to Steelplate before moving off to the washracks, silent and brooding.

* * *

Prowl examined himself carefully in the 360 degree mirror that included a reflective floor and ceiling. His personal attendants waited just outside, in case he perceived a flaw in his finish. Their positions were considered among the most prestigious, for they were allowed to touch the Lord Heir so intimately and often, yet they were also among the most dangerous, for they were exposed to his temper in ways very few were.

The young Lord Heir's expectations were as simple as they were difficult; perfection. His punishments, while notoriously creative for repeat offenders, were also as flawlessly within the structure of the law and traditions. That was little comfort to prisoners of war that had no one to buy their freedom and became the property of the warrior who captured them.

This pair, bonded mechs Prowl had personally taken captive in the first campaign he led himself, had served him well for many vorns. This orn was no different and the young Lord Heir exited the mirrored side room with a flick of his long sensor wings to inform the pair he was satisfied with their work.

Both bowed deeply to him before returning to their other duties in maintaining his suite and personal possessions.

Prowl left them to their work, confident that they needed no oversight. His duty was to see his intended to the family dining chamber. He did hope the mech would present better after a detailing and energon. If nothing else, he knew he could trust Evening Dawn to tell him why Jazz did not, and do her level best to ensure she would not have to explain anything.

His arrival and announcement at the half of the courting suite now occupied by his intended found the smaller mech ready and waiting for him in the sitting room. Hovering against the far wall were Evening Bronze and the large, dull colored mech that had accompanied Jazz, the rest of the servants from his escort already absent and presumably seen to.

The mech was much more pleasing to the optic with the wear and dirt of travel seen to, though nothing could hide the subtle tension running through then mech's entire frame as he bowed to Prowl. "Lord Heir."

"Jazz," Prowl canted his wings politely, in a _friendly_ greeting reserved for family. "You look good." He stepped to the side smoothly, motioning Jazz to walk with him. "My creators are eager to meet you."

"Thank you." Jazz answered, helm dipping in a nod that was the equal to the wing greeting he had been offered. It was an effort, responding in the tone and mode that Prowl had set.

Letting out a very soft vent he joined the larger mech, falling into step with his guide. "I-look forward to meeting your creators."

Prowl rewarded his efforts with a tiny smile and a soft brush against Jazz's EM field as they walked though the family section of the compound to one of the more intimate dining rooms. Tonight was only for close kin; Prowl's creators, his sparker's other mates and the other political creations among Prowl's siblings. Nine mecha in all, including Jazz.

Question, unsure-not-quite-fear was thick under a layer of determination that wavered at the touch before stiffening again, Jazz pulling his frame straight and proud as they arrived at the dining room.

The ornately carved door slid open to reveal a very traditional family dining room, though it was far larger than any Jazz had seen before. All optics turned to him as the seven mecha already present turned to take in the eldest creation's mate for the first time.

Jazz's optics swept around the room, taking in each mecha in turn. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting exactly, but at least there was no open hostility directed his way.

Calculating. Evaluating. Judging. But nothing to set off a true defensive reaction just yet. His optics ended their journey on the Lord of the House, and Jazz paused for just a moment.

Then he stepped inside and bowed low, with all respect and honor due an elder and House Lord in his House.

"Creator, I present my intended; Lord Jazz from the House of Crossbeam," Prowl spoke formally.

"Welcome to the House of the Shining Sun," the House Lord spoke with a small incline of his helm and neutrally friendly cant of his elegant wings. "Sit with us and refresh yourself."

"The House of the Shining Sun is gracious." Jazz replied formally. "I am honored."

He waited until Prowl moved past him, taking his place gracefully across from the Lord of the House. As soon as Jazz was settled as well servants appeared, offering the hand cleansers before departing to make room for meal to be served.

The introductions were made. Prowl's three older political siblings, his creator's first bonded, a Praxian who was Prowl's carrier, and the two younger bondeds, both alliance bondings. One a still-young femme from Iacon, the other an older Aerial of Vosian lineage. A larger family than Jazz's would ever be, and a clue to the young mech where Prowl's interest in having many creations likely came from. If there were four political creations, there were likely a dozen or more warriors.

Jazz committed each designation to memory, offering the proper greeting and thanking each for the kindness of the House as the food was placed on the table, each dish starting with the lord and his first bonded before making its way to Jazz and eventually down the table.

He silently thanked Steelplate for insisting that he refuel before he came. If there had not been something in his tank already it would have been very hard to sit there waiting for the lord to begin first. As it was he was able to concentrate on the pleasantries as he should.

Once everyone had been served Bladedrift offered a murmur of thanks to Primus and took a bite of his meal, the signal that everyone could begin eating as well. The meal was a sedate affair; the way civilized, well-fueled mecha ate. A social event as much as it was an act of necessity.

Jazz noted the way he was watched as he nibbled on the offerings placed before him. The selection was actually simpler and smaller than most meals his sparker's second mate insisted on, though of even finer quality ingredients.

"Jazz, have you ever been around a large family?" Tandem, the second oldest political creation, asked once the meal had settled in.

"Not for very long." Jazz responded as soon as he had finished the confection he had been nibbling on. "My Sire's brother has a large family and I spent a metacycle with them once."

A very different metacycle. His uncle had taken three mates, all of them fruitful. But where Jazz's home life had been one of discord, the environment he had found there, even with so many siblings and three mates, had been one of chaotic harmony. It was one of the few bright social spots in Jazz's upbringing.

"You will find having many creations is common in this House," Tandem smiled slightly, a gentling look on a naturally stern face. "Most are warriors, though you will likely have more political creations than most as the Lord's first mate. It takes many skilled administrative hands to maintain a House this large."

Jazz managed a polite answer, though deep within his spark rippled in fear and denial. Even if on the surface this was a semi-formal event where everything he did would be remembered, picked apart and analyzed later.

"What is your favorite hobby?" Asked the youngest of those present, Metronome. She was the Lord's youngest bonded, not much older than Jazz and already potentially looking at the end of her functioning when he extinguished.

Exploring. Racing. Anything that had gotten him out of his family compound and away from his sire's second bonded. Not all of which were fit hobbies for someone who was to be the first bonded of a future lord, characteristics that had been left out of his profile, he had discovered once he had been able to hack a copy of it.

"I enjoy listening to music." He told her, managing a small smile. It was the truth, and an acceptable interest in most social circles.

"Do you play as well?" Prowl asked with definite interest.

"I have yet to find an instrument that I can play well. I do sing a little." Jazz told him, admitting to something that no one had ever been able to figure out a reason for.

He caught flickers of approval from various mecha. So singing was a valued skill, at least for his new position. Perhaps most importantly, he felt clear approval from Prowl.

The conversations entered another welcome lull for Jazz as other subjects were discussed, including family finances, an upcoming minor campaign, those in training --updates which predominantly came from Prowl -- and discipline issues.

In it was a very interesting insight to the dynamics of the family, and a little disconcerting as well. Jazz was old enough to remember when one of his sibling's intended had arrived, and it had been several decaorn before some of these topics had been openly discussed in his presence.

He homed in on the training, curious because Prowl was the predominant speaker and because the fighting style of the House and its warriors was of interest to him. It was on the tip of his glossa, barely contained, to ask if he might observe when the time of the next orn's session was mentioned.

"What level of training did you complete?" Prowl suddenly turned and looked at Jazz, his golden optics intent and field curious.

"Second level weapons training. Second level unarmed hand to hand." Jazz answered confidently, settling into something he understood, and a mode he was familiar with. "My sire encouraged my interest once he found out."

Though it wasn't a surprise in a warrior House, the approval around the table was welcome.

"Most impressive," Prowl voiced what others clearly thought. "Who was your master?"

"Steelplate taught me the basics, and my sire instructed me when he was home. Once I was beyond Steelplate's instruction it was split between several monks from the monastery." Jazz answered. And severe task masters they had been, but fair. They demanded as much perfection from him as they did of themselves, but even that was something that Jazz had grown to appreciate that over time.

"Then your style is a mixture of Circuit-Su and Crystalocution?" Prowl extrapolated.

Jazz's visor flickered in surprise, even though after a moment of consideration he realized he should have been expecting the question. "Yes. My sire's preferred form is Crystalocution. I started there and had other elements added later."

Prowl inclined his helm slightly in understanding. "What weapons do you prefer?"

"Duel short blades. I was drilled in staff work as well." Jazz considered, going through the rest of his list of weapons. He had some skill with long range weapons, but nothing that was particularly noteworthy.

"Perhaps we can spar with the staff or practice blades after you have settled," Prowl offered, keenly interested in seeing for himself how skilled his intended actually was.

"I look forward to it." Jazz murmured truthfully. Yes, his intended was a political creation, but a political creation in a House of warriors, and apparently much more military minded than Jazz's older brother was. Jazz also got the distinct impression that this conversation wasn't over, but that the remainder was being saved for a more private setting.

The conversation drifted back to normal talk around the table, more of the formal dropping away as Jazz relaxed. It was a full two-joor affair, much of it taken up by business discussions of one kind or another.

By the time they were excused, Jazz had almost relaxed enough to feel normal, but he was still grateful to escape to his quarters and the privacy when Prowl excused himself to give Jazz some space.

"You look as if it went well," Steelplate commented when they were alone.

"It ... went better than I was expecting." Jazz admitted, the last bit of formal falling away now that he was alone with Steelplate. The pair were long past the formalities of free servant and master, the smaller mech collapsing on the berth as the large gray mech made himself comfortable in the chair in the corner.

"Did you learn anything of interest?" Steelplate smiled privately.

"The fact that I can sing a little seemed to go over well. Prowl, at least, is interested in my combat training. He expressed an interest in sparring once I have settled in. The family...must be very large. There were four political creations present tonight." Jazz said, rattling off everything he had noticed that seemed to be of importance.

"The Lord of the House does not look well." He added softly. While it was something they had been informed of, reason as to why the heir was searching for a mate so quickly, Jazz had not realized just how bad things were until tonight.

Steelplate nodded grimly. "Unfortunately, that will mean that the pressure for the Lord Heir to have an heir will be intense. He can not inherit his creator's title without one."

"I know." There was a distinct note of bitterness in Jazz's voice, the good mood from the evening vanishing at the reminder.

He did not want to be here. He did not want to be anyone's mate just yet. He did not even want to think about being a creator right now with a mech he had just met, no matter how agreeable the mech seemed to be.

Or how easy on the optics.

"It is far from the worst fate, Jazz," Steelplate sighed. "The servants, even the slaves here do not fear him, and they do respect him. He cannot be a cruel or abusive mech when those he has such power over view him positively."

The blue visor flared as Jazz jerked upright. "And the ones at home had no reason to fear _her_."

When there was no immediate response to his outburst Jazz fell back on the berth, curling up on the soft surface in a posture distinctly reminiscent of a frightened sparkling.

Instead of trying to argue logic, Steelplate stood and walked over to the berth to stroke Jazz's side soothingly. "It will work out," he murmured.

Jazz wanted to believe him. Steelplate had always been right. A source of comfort and guidance when Jazz had needed him most. Tension eased from the small frame, light coming back slowly as the visored mech's posture eased. "They have you quartered with the rest of the servants?"

"Yes," he continued to stroke Jazz's side.

"They provided fuel for everyone?" Jazz asked, focusing on something besides the pain and confusion in his own spark.

"Good quality and enough for everyone to recover and recharge well," he assured the young noble. "They have been fine hosts so far."

"You should be recharging with them." The young noble murmured, well aware that if the orn had seemed hard on him it must have been beyond taxing for his guardian.

"I will, when I am sure you will recharge as well," Steelplate said firmly. "You need to be in peek condition far more than I do."

"Why?" Jazz asked softly, begging a reason for all that was happening from his guardian while finally relaxing completely into the soothing touch.

The old mech hummed softly, encouraging his charge to slip into much needed recharge, no matter how early it was. There were so many ways to answer that, and all of them would hurt. "I believe your creator knew how miserable you were and why. Giving into her demands may well have been a way to try and save you from far worse. You were legally old enough to be bonded to advantage to the House long ago, and as the youngest warrior creation, no reason for you not to be."

A soft sound, pain and sorrow, escaped the young mech under his hand. His creator had always been good to him, stern and demanding at times, but Jazz loved him. There was no such warmth in his spark for his sire's second mate.

"Old enough to be bonded, but not old enough to go with him." Jazz commented, more to himself than to Steelplate.

"You know what he said, that when you reached the third level with either a weapon or hand to hand you could join him," Steelplate reminded him gently but firmly. "You were several centuries from that level of mastery."

"Never have the chance now." As much as the truth hurt Jazz knew the older mech was right.

Steelplate hummed. "In this House? My dear Jazz, their mates often stand at their side in battle."

"To stand at Prowl's side. To share his glory." Jazz sighed. To never have the chance to be anything but a shadow of his mate, a secondary _thing_ no matter what he managed to accomplish through his own effort.

Sometime during the conversation Steelplate had settled on the edge of the berth, and now Jazz rolled back, leaning against the warm frame and taking comfort in the steady field.

"There are far worse fates," the older mech reminded him gently. "You won't know how much independence you'll have until you try. You won't know _Prowl_ until you try."

As the rest of Jazz's systems settled he suddenly realized just how tired he was. Tired of worrying and fighting and watching every step he made. The soothing voice and contact had him drifting toward recharge, the silent promise that it would be well making it that way in the moment.

"I'll try." He promised. He would try to give that mech and this place a chance, for the honor of his sire and house and for Steelplate, who had invested so much in raising him.


	2. An Orn With Prowl

"Lord Jazz, Lord Prowl requests you join him in the suite's common room for breakfast," Evening Bronze spoke softly as she finished detailing Jazz early the next orn.

Jazz stretched slowly as she stepped away, checking himself in the mirror quickly. He had to admit that this- not having to worry about his own appearance every morning before he emerged in the House- was something that he could get used to. An idle part of his processor also wondered how many arguments and disapproving looks from his creator's second bonded such service would have saved him.

"Thank you." He said, acknowledging the quality and skill of her work first. "I would be honored to join him. When does he normally break fast?"

"Half a joor after dawn," she answered easily, intimately familiar with Prowl's habits and schedule while he was in the family compound. "Do not be concerned. He did not expect you to be ready so early after your long journey. He is in the common room, working until you arrive."

Jazz checked the time and just kept his face neutral. By habit he himself was an early riser, simply because it had been easier to slip out of the house in the early joors of the orn. "I still should not keep him waiting any longer." He commented as he departed. He opened the lockable door between his rooms and the larger areas that he and Prowl shared and looked around. His intended was easy to spot, sitting calmly at one of the smaller tables in the large room off to the side. A board for Swords and Axes was set up.

"Did you recharge well, Jazz?" Prowl asked.

"Very well, thank you." Jazz answered as he crossed the room. It was the truth too, the young mech not even noticing when his guardian had left him for the night, only waking this morning to find the room dark and the door locked when Evening Bronze had pinged requesting entrance.

"And you, Prowl?" He asked, polite but sincere as he settled in a seat across from the Praxian.

"My recharge was satisfactory," he gave Jazz a small, somewhat stiff smile. "Do you enjoy playing?" he motioned to the board game.

Jazz scanned the board, finding it familiar, though the set was not quite as battered as the one he was used to playing with. He would wager that this one had not suffered the hands of enthusiastic younglings often, if ever.

"Yes. I play Sovereign and Campaign as well." He added, naming two other strategy games, both more advanced than this one.

"Excellent," Prowl brightened, his reaction more delight than mere approval. Two cubes of energon, simple but of good quality, were brought from his subspace as his datapad was put in. One cube was offered to Jazz. "Do you wish to move first?"

"Since you offered and I have the feeling I am going to need all the help I can get?" Jazz asked as he accepted the cube, the edge of good humor in his voice genuine, "Yes, thank you."

"From your profile, I do have significantly more tactical training and experience," Prowl agreed, watching his intended consider the board with interest. "What do you expect of your intended?"

"What?" Jazz face lifted to meet Prowl's optics, his expression a moment of open surprise.

"What do you expect of your bonded?" Prowl rephrased slightly. "I have gathered that you did not anticipate being the subordinate mate, however there should be traits you desire regardless of who is dominant politically."

"I hadn't anticipated being bonded at all." There was no chance mistaking the bitterness in Jazz's voice as he finally made his move, more to avoid looking Prowl in the optics any longer than a real desire to get the game underway.

Jazz hadn't given what he _wanted_ a great deal of thought, putting all of his efforts into getting out potentially being bonded instead. He certainly knew what he didn't want. He didn't want a business relationship like the one that seemed to exist between his sire and his sire's second bonded.

When he had given it any thought at all, when his imagination had wandered to potential event he had thought was very far in the future, he had imagined someone like his brother's bonded. A smart, kind, gentle mech who was obviously very much in love with his mate. Lover, confident....

"A friend." He sighed softly, staring at the board.

Prowl canted his wings in acknowledgement and made a move, seemingly without thinking, and gave Jazz his first solid insight into just how pragmatic and tactical the mech was.

"And what you do not want?" Prowl asked smoothly.

"Prison." Jazz slid another piece into place, testing Prowl's reaction and trying to get a feel for the other mech's style of play.

He didn't want his freedom stripped away. Didn't want to lose everything in life that he enjoyed. Didn't want to have to fight for every little good thing in functioning.

The Praxian cocked his helm and regarded Jazz for a lingering moment, the game ignored. "Your home was not a happy place."

"It was home." Jazz shrugged, expression carefully neutral as he looked up, waiting for Prowl to move. "It was happy."

Just not for him all the time.

Golden optics seemed to sharpen as they locked onto Jazz, the field of his intended reaching out to brush against Jazz's with an intense curiosity.

"I can not give you what I do not know about," Prowl said simply. "Communication and honesty is important."

There was a very long silence, time for Prowl to feel the conflict raging inside Jazz as the smaller mech searched for answers, and a reason to answer.

"My carrier returned to the Well of Sparks not long after I separated." Jazz stated quietly. Cold, simply stated fact in the profile that Prowl had been given, made much more with the muted grief that mech before him felt. "My Sire is often absent from the House, serving the Prime. My sire's second bonded did not care for how fond my sire was of me after my carrier ceased to function."

"And yet you did not wish to take the first out you had available," Prowl said thoughtfully. "You could have escaped long ago if you accepted an earlier offer."

"I didn't like any of them." In truth he had managed to convince all of them that they didn't like _him_. He never did enough to actually bring shame to his House, but with every one of them he had managed to pinpoint the one thing that would make them walk away and exploited it until they had left.

He nudged another piece into play, taking a bolder approach than he had originally planned at the beginning. It was too soon to tell if the gamble would pay off, but either way it would be interesting. "I had another chance, just not enough time. My sire... he promised he would take me with him, once my combat skills were sufficient."

"Until the offer of a bond-alliance with the Lord Heir of House of the Shining Sun was made," Prowl said with a touch of understanding. "We could have asked for his heir and received him." He paused, considering Jazz as more than the game as he made a move, smoothly countering Jazz's tactic. "This will be no more a prison than you make of it."

"And how is that?" Wary curiosity colored Jazz's tone as he tried another route, already resigned to the fact that he was going to lose this game but determined to find out as much as he could.

"Follow the rules and you will be free to do largely as you please, including making a reputation for yourself on the battlefield," Prowl said simply.

"The rules?" Jazz repeated, biting down on the bitterness threatening to rise at that term.

There were always rules.

"You _did_ receive the House laws and my few personal additions when you were given the House datafile?" Prowl lifted his wings in a display of displeasure directed not-at-Jazz.

"Yes." Jazz assured him quickly and quietly, clearly following the wing movement warily even if the displeasure was not at him. He relaxed slightly when Prowl settled just as quickly. He had been so distracted he hadn't done more than look them over quickly to make sure he wouldn't violate any that weren't common sense and left it at that the orn before. "I have not gone over them in detail yet." He admitted, truthful.

"Perhaps now would be a good time," Prowl suggested. "I can explain any that do not make immediate sense."

"They ... are all very clear." Jazz stated after he had inspected the House list and his intended's additions, though he was clearly not entirely pleased with some of them.

"Which are you displeased by?" Prowl asked simply as he moved a piece without seeming to look at the game.

"I _must_ have an escort?" Jazz repeated very carefully, emphasis clearly marking the part he had issue with.

"For your protection," Prowl nodded, the cant of his wings saying volumes about how little that was up for negotiation. "You are not the youngest creation of a first generation House in a minor territory now. You are the intended of the Lord Heir of the premiere warrior House in Praxus, a city second only to Iacon in importance. You will be the target of many plots and attempts on your life from those outside this House. If my sparker extinguishes before I have an heir this House will lose much of its standing and power, as it must be without a formally acknowledged Lord until I have an heir, or step down for one of my older siblings who already has an heir to take over."

And it was very clear to Jazz that while he might list them as options, Prowl was willing to allow neither scenario to come about. "So if I wish to go out...?" Jazz asked, the anger rippling through his field not making it into his voice.

"You _will_ have at least one guardian nearby until the House can afford to lose you," Prowl said firmly, though personally he was not about to allow the dishonor of having his first bonded killed or captured due to his negligence. "Even I am required to have guards to hunt."

Jazz vented roughly but didn't argue, though his field made his feelings very clear. Just because he understood and would comply did not mean he would be happy about it. "And inside the compound?"

"You are free to go where you please, as long as you do not break other rules," Prowl said simply. "There is very little that is off limits to you."

Jazz nodded acceptance and understanding as he moved a piece across the board, clearly losing. His field pulled away, thoughtful and quiet. "And what about you?" He finally asked. "What do you expect of me?"

Prowl considered him seriously before answering. "I expect strong, well-educated creations. I expect you to honor this House in your behavior. I expect no one but myself to share your berth." He paused slightly. "I want a mate to rule with me, to stand at my side because he wants to be with me."

The smaller mech's visor flickered. He had expected everything but the last bit. If...if this was the truth...

The faintest bit of _hope_ rippled through Jazz's field, strong enough to be felt where it still touched Prowl's.

He did not want this, had never wanted to be where he was. But he might yet learn to like it.

"All of my creator's bondeds are political arrangements of one kind or another," Prowl expanded his explanation a bit. "As are most of the other political mecha's bondeds. Warriors typically bond for love of some kind or another. The strongest bonds, those that have the best creations and bring out the most in the couple, are always those where both mecha respect and care for the other. I cannot expect a hurriedly arranged and bought mate to desire me immediately. We can, however, work towards that. We do not have a choice in this bond, Jazz. We do have a choice in what we make of it."

For a moment Jazz balked, reminded that indeed he had no choice. None that would not bring shame on his House that it would never recover from. The arrangements were made, the contracts signed, and he was bound by them even if he had not been involved in creating them.

It was small consolation that Prowl had just admitted that he was in much the same situation. Yet Prowl was offering him what he wanted, even if this was not the way that Jazz had envisioned going about getting it. Helm tilted to the side, he made a move that sealed his fate in the game. "I wish to try."

The smile he received from the reserved, stern Praxian was warm. Where their fields touched Jazz was caressed with gratitude and intense approval.

"I am glad," Prowl said softly as he made a move that would end the game quickly. "While you can not be _seen_ arguing with me, I need you to tell me the truth when we are in private. Even if you believe it will displease me."

Jazz just caught his field from pressing into the touch, surprised and a little disconcerted at how _good_ it felt. Scrambling, he searched and found something else to focus on. "May I watch the training this afternoon?"

"Of course," Prowl graced him with another smile. "While my duties as Lord Heir include a great many bureaucratic duties, it is also part of my function to lead our warriors in battle. I spend half my typical orn training and overseeing their training."

Recovered, Jazz relaxed once more. "It will be interesting to see."

* * *

Walking around the compound, much of which was dedicated to the warrior class and their training, had proven enlightening to Jazz. While his training had been outsourced much of the time, here the entire estate, and it was a huge estate, revolved around the highly structured and disciplined existence of the warrior class, which included the very Lords of the House.

Entire cadres, eight strong, worked in formation with swords to attack, shields to defend, polearms against imaginary larger targets. Each group in perfect unison, perfect harmony.

Watching it, there was no way to miss the pride Prowl felt as he gazed over the core of his House's power.

Pride that was well deserved as Jazz spent most of his time observing and assimilating, processing the shift in focus and power from the individualized style he was used to.

And asking the occasional question. His first soft inquiry had been met with surprise-approval from Prowl. Not at the fact that the smaller mech had dared to ask, but at the depth and level of observation that had clearly gone into forming it. The answer offered in return had reflected that effort, detailed and informative, the talk of one warrior to another.

At other times, often, really, Jazz remained very quiet, trying to be effectively invisible just behind Prowl as the Praxian did his rounds and spoke to each and every cadre leader and instructor in the compound, along with sparkling and youngling educators and the odd mix of mecha charged with molding the mechlings into enough of a disciplined and educated lot that they could begin true training in their final mechling upgrade.

Each spoke frankly to Prowl, praising some and recounting the reprimands of others. By the time the three joor tour was finished Jazz was still trying to processes the House culture that produced such discipline and honesty through the ranks.

He was also reasonably sure that none of the speakers, nor Prowl, was putting on any kind of act or show for him. This was simply how this House ran. Prowl oversaw everything personally. Jazz was reasonably sure Prowl could recount the designation, rank, cadre and specialties of every warrior under his command.

It was a fascinating insight to his intended's abilities and level of devotion to his position and his House.

And anything that he cared about.

If Prowl really wanted to care about Jazz ... the implications just about melted the young noble's processor.

"Would you care to join me in my lessons for the orn?" Prowl asked as they approached the main house in the compound.

"Yes. Thank you." Jazz replied, a mental shake managing to settle his processor somewhat as they entered the house, seeing it through new optics as well.

While nothing that went on was completely _new_ to him, the scale on which it occurred in the House of the Shining Sun was almost more than he could process. Life went on, intricate and complicated, but so smoothly that on the surface it appeared effortless.

He kept looking, watching, understanding a little more here and there as Prowl led him to the very heart of the building. Where one would think the throne room or war room would be was instead the dojo where the ranking nobility trained. It was simple, clean, with a meditation space towards the back and two large sparring daises up front.

Prowl took a single step inside, came to perfect center balance and bowed deeply to a spot on the far wall. Jazz couldn't see anything special about the small circular mirror of gold with its simple silver frame, but it clearly held great importance to his intended.

He waited, quietly and respectfully a step behind Prowl to see if any explanation would be offered.

When Prowl straitened an older Praxian, a solid matte black with only the faintest highlights of gold stepped into the room from behind a curtain.

"Master Ziariace," Prowl bowed once more. "May I present my intended, Lord Jazz from the House of Crossbeam."

The ancient Praxian inclined his helm slightly, a show of his status far more than Jazz's.

For a moment their optics met, then Jazz bowed low, the respect of the lowly beginner honoring a master.

And master the old mech was, of this room, despite its location at the heart of the House.

"Will I attempt to train this one as well?" Master Ziariace asked, the only show of Prowl's status that would be seen in this space. For here Prowl was not a Lord, not the Lord Heir, not the one who led the House in war. Here he was merely a student, and all knew it.

Prowl's gaze went to Jazz, asking despite the silence.

"If the master would deem a sparkling in the arts worthy of his time, I would be honored." Jazz answered, acknowledging his place in the scheme of things with a calm that Prowl had not seen in him before.

"Then begin your warm up katas, both of you," his gaze shifted to Jazz. "You will spar against Prowl, to show me what skills you possess."

Prowl bowed his helm in acknowledgement of the order and stepped to his familiar place in the center of one of the daises, motioning Jazz to the other.

This was certainly not what Jazz had been expecting, a thought that he put out of his processor as he stepped to the center of the other practice area and slowly began to clear his processor as the monks had taught him, letting go of distracting thoughts and emotions with each regulated ex-vent.

Only once he was quiet and centered did he begin to move, starting with the simplest of the unarmed katas he had been taught as youngling. His motion was unhurried, smooth grace in pursuit of perfection as he slid from one motion to the next, working his way through the forms.

Though he wasn't looking, he knew Prowl was doing much the same. He could hear the whisper-quiet of the other mech's systems as they powered his frame through each maneuver. It was incredibly soothing on so many levels to be doing this. It soothed a fear that he would be relegated to a position where he could never again enjoy the purity of existence that the katas brought.

While he was always aware of his surroundings, Jazz proceeded to lose himself in something that was familiar and safe, his focus narrowing as he proceeded into the more difficult forms until he finally reached sequences that he had only just begun to master, slowing down and focusing on each individual motion with all the concentration due the art he was striving to perform.

"Enough," the Master called them to stop. "Face Prowl. Freeform."

Jazz froze instantly at the first word, frame shifting smoothly back to a neutral stance as the Master continued. Instructed, he bowed to the old mech before turning to join his partner and inclining his head, ready to begin when Prowl was.

His intended settled easily into a defensive posture, well aware this was a demonstration of Jazz's abilities, not his own.

The smaller mech did not rush into the attack, coming at Prowl with a mid level strike that would not be insulting to the skill Prowl possessed and would begin to give Jazz a feel for the reflexes and personal style of the Praxian.

The reply was a smooth block right out of Diffusion, then a hand grabbed Jazz's extended wrist and used the remaining momentum to throw him into a roll, a move out of Circuit-Su's handbook.

Jazz went with the energy, allowing it to carry him over into the roll and back to his pedes, turning smoothly to face Prowl, already balanced and moving in to strike again. Again and again his attacks were deflected, redirected or simply avoided. Yet in it he could see that Prowl wasn't a master yet, or even that close to one. His intended was better than him, no doubt about it, but not by an insurmountable margin.

Without warning Prowl's tactics shifted, displaying the heavy influence Metallikato had in the House's form as he attacked. Simple moves, ones selected and executed at a level Jazz could cope with, but always with the edge of how much power and precision was being held back.

It could have been frustrating, but frustration in battle was something that had been trained out of Jazz long ago. Instead he simply became more determined, each of his shortcomings noted subconsciously to be reviewed and meditated upon later that they might be corrected. At the same time his own moves shifted to account for the shift in his intended's style and execution.

As their fields brushed and mingled with each exchange, Jazz also noted the _pleasure-joy-calmness_ that saturated Prowl's very essence as they continued. In there was also a notable lack of smugness or superiority at being better than his opponent.

Even that was filed away for later, something to be reflected on in the privacy of meditation. Still, no matter how hard he tried, Jazz couldn't keep the small edge of pleasure out of his own field.

"Enough," the Master called out, garnering instant neutral stances in both his students and their full attention to him. "Prowl, practice the seventh katas with your blades. Jazz, come," he motioned the younger mech to join him in the second dais.

Jazz saluted his partner respectfully before moving to join the Master, his attention focused on the darker mech as he waited quietly for further instruction.

* * *

Three and a half joors later, the Master released them both, giving Jazz a different time to come for his training separate from Prowl's. It had been one of the most exacting, trying and rewarding afternoons of his entire existence.

"You will advance quickly if you continue to focus so well," Prowl said as they walked, the praise honest.

"Thank you." Jazz replied, the small smile and the light in his optics honest and hinting at thanks that went far deeper than just the compliment he had been given, the field that was loose enough to just maintain contact with Prowl's at ease in the Praxian's presence.

It was quite a change from his arrival only an orn before.

"What are your energy levels?"

"57%." Jazz checked. Not dangerously low by any means, and not quite at the point where he generally started to feel the need to go in search of fuel.

"Then come, we can raid the kitchen for a snack," Prowl gave him a small smile that might have been playful when he'd been younger.

The soft laughter that it earned him in return was worth the effort, Jazz following the Praxian's lead in search of the promised snack. The kitchen wasn't very busy and the ancient mech that seemed to be in charge of it smiled and bowed to them, his manner speaking of a level of familiarity Prowl permitted that was more than a normal servant had with such a powerful Lord.

A youngling femme of non-Praxian design hurried to bring them a small tray of crusted confections, the kind that would last for orns, though Jazz was sure these were perfectly fresh. She offered the tray to Jazz, her entire frame almost vibrating with excitement at being permitted to serve the Lord Heir and his intended.

::She's expecting you to carry them,:: Prowl gave him a quick databurst.

Jazz took them easily, his easy expression encouraging and bringing a little extra brightness to her optics as she bowed and just kept from bouncing away.

Balancing the tray easily he looked to Prowl, helm tilting a little in question as to where the Praxian would like to refuel. Without a word Prowl turned and led his intended towards their quarters. Only once they were clear of the service areas of the building did the mech speak.

"We have the remainder of the orn free, except for supper. What would you like to do?"

"I would like to share these with you, since there is far too many for one mech to consume." Jazz nodded to the tray in his hands before hesitating for a moment. "Then...I believe I would like some time to think."

"That is agreeable," Prowl said, allowing them fall into silence as they made their way to their suites and the common space between them.

Jazz placed the tray on the table, settling himself and waiting for Prowl to choose first. He noted the Praxian's preferences, that Prowl seemed to like strong, somewhat acidic flavors. He found himself actually just enjoying the quiet and the peacefulness of sitting there, so different from the life he had known. Prowl was relaxed and calm, the quite between them lacking in the tension of unspoken things.

He found himself thinking he could really get used to this kind of quiet.


	3. The First Kiss

Five decaorn after Jazz's arrival and both Jazz and Prowl's orns had fallen into something of a routine. Wake up, clean up, have breakfast together in the common room of their suite, spend a few joors alone together talking, playing games and just getting used to each other, go on Prowl's rounds, training with Master Ziariace, some time alone, dinner with the family, the evening together and then off to their own berthrooms for the night.

It was after dinner and a quiet walk back to their rooms Jazz still had not picked an activity for the evening. Often times they played another game or simply talked. Occasionally they had even taken to meditating together, the presence of another field more comforting than distracting, as Jazz had first feared. 

As the door closed behind them Jazz paused, optics scanning the room, seeking some sort of inspiration.

"Jazz," Prowl's voice, his field, contained an uncertain tenor that was strange coming from the normally confident mech.

Concerned, Jazz turned to face him with a small frown. Had he done something wrong? Had something happened? Jazz knew that Prowl had met with his creators earlier in the orn, but everything had seemed normal at dinner.

The taller Praxian wasn't at all relaxed as he stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Strong white fingers reached up to cup Jazz's cheek, the touch gentle and field full of affection and a touch of desire.

Jazz tilted his face into the touch as he struggled to get a read on what was going on. He was well past his initial wariness of Prowl, the budding trust between them the result of many joors spent in each other's company.

"Prowl?"

Instead of words, Prowl's response was to lean forward and brush their lips together, the kiss light, chaste and full of questioning.

Jazz's initial reaction was a squeak of surprise, visor flaring with the new but not entirely unwelcome sensation. It was different, and certainly not unpleasant. The exact opposite in fact.

When his advance wasn't rejected, Prowl kissed a little more firmly, his free hand drawing Jazz closer, against his chest.

Jazz didn't fight him, the smaller mech's frame not unwilling, just merely unsure where it touched Prowl's, Jazz's hands still kept to himself.

Prowl's lips moved to caress Jazz's jaw while both his hands shifted to caress Jazz's sides, fingers dipping into seams to tease the wiring inside.

The smaller mech squirmed, the light touches tickling, and settled as they became slightly stronger, firm even pressure that had him relaxing in the Praxian's arms.

When the kiss ended he tilted his helm, looking questioningly up at his intended. "Prowl?"

"I would ... share pleasure with you tonight, if you agree," Prowl struggled with the words. It was so soon, too soon for him, yet he had been told in no uncertain terms that Jazz needed to be carrying no later than a metacycle after the bonding, an event itself that was coming far too fast for Prowl's liking. He had less than three and a half metacycles to take an untouched mech and make him ready to accept not only being bound to another but to creating a new life as well.

Tension instantly ran the entire length of Jazz's frame, emotion swirling uneasily, though he didn't try to pull away. "Pleasure?" He repeated quietly.

A small nod was the reply. "Only touch," Prowl promised. "Nothing with your seals yet."

Black hands came up to trace over the Praxian's frame, clearly unsure of what they were doing but willing enough at the promise.

A faint shiver passed down Prowl's frame. "On a berth, or couch?" he asked, his lips traveling along Jazz's jaw.

"Which is better?" Jazz asked quietly, hesitant and distracted by the touches to his face sending small shivers through his frame.

"Berth," Prowl said without hesitation as he continued to trail kisses down Jazz's jaw until he reached his neck. His hands never stopped exploring Jazz's frame, seeking touches that would make his lover gasp. "Yours or mine?"

He's never been in Prowl's side of the suite, and while he had no illusions of just how much privacy he had in 'his' quarters, they were familiar and safer. "Mine." Jazz whimpered as a hand brushed lightly over abdominal plating "Please."

He felt Prowl's nod more than saw it, and nearly whined when the pleasurable contact pulled away. It was quickly replaced by a more guiding touch to direct them to Jazz's berth room and the soft surface there.

Lips met his as soon as his frame met the berth, refocusing Jazz on the pleasure he had been feeling and not the edge of fear that had crept into his field during the short trip. It was followed by a gentle hand on his helm, stroking along his face soothingly as he was eased back on the berth.

His own hands rose, cautiously mimicking the motions over the Praxian's frame, unsure but feeling that he needed to be doing something.

"Wings," Prowl murmured as one hand stroked a sensor horn and his mouth returned to Jazz's throat. "Chevron."

Hands that had only ever touched to spar glided softly over side armor before finding the base of the elegant wings. Curious fingers rose to slide along the trailing edges first, feeling. The rush of pleasure across Prowl's field and the gasp the Praxian offered spoke volumes of how sensitive the expanses were.

"Yes," Prowl moaned, his wings pressing into the touch, his field reaching out to mesh with Jazz's, wanting to share the pleasure with the mech under him.

Encouraged by the reaction and gasping at the pleasure that surged across the shared fields, Jazz repeated the motion, hands now boldly working over more of the wing surface as he moaned into another kiss. 

Any fear that might have been born of the newness was quickly buried under the pleasure of touching and being touched.

The kiss broke again as Prowl's lips moved to caress the bright blue visor, one hand continuing to rub a sensor horn. He settled with his legs along Jazz's and allowed himself to relish a rare treat, even for him. Untouched, legally, meant the valve and spark chamber seals were intact. It was all he'd expected from the file. That his intended hadn't even shared a pleasurable _touch_ was amazing. Something to be treasured, relished, and turned Prowl's focus fully on Jazz's pleasure rather than his own.

The field of the softly moaning mech under him was different too, the edge of tension that seemed to be Jazz's constant companion gone as the smaller mech simply accepted. Dark hands shifted to unconsciously kneading the base of the Praxian's sensor wings.

Pleasure surged through the meshed fields again as Prowl's lips traced visor and facial features, each small touch sending tingles of pleasure through his intended and by default into Prowl.

There was an added element of pleasure in the fact that each new discovery was a revelation to them both.

"Beautiful," Prowl whispered before trailing kisses back to Jazz's lips. His spike wanted out, badly. His valve was slick and eager, already twitching to constrict around a thick shaft it wouldn't have tonight. He kept manually overriding both covers to keep them closed.

It just felt so _good_ to draw each sound, each shiver, from his lover.

Slowly, every touch an exploration, Prowl's lips moved down from Jazz's throat to trail along a common hot spot -- the chest seam.

The response was instantaneous- pleasure warred with an instinctive drive to protect his spark, fear with the trust that Prowl had worked so hard to build in the mech that was desired as lover and mate. Conflicting sounds issued from Jazz, slowly smoothing out as Prowl slowed, taking the time to investigate every inch of the armor that shielded the life force of his intended from the world.

Pleasure spread from the Praxian's back once more as the dark hands of his lover started to move again, joint sign with how Jazz relaxed back on the berth of the acceptance of this touch and the pleasure that it brought as well.

Slowly, gently, Prowl's lips continued down. His glossa slipped out to trail along the boarder between the strong, flat white chest armor and the highly articulated black abdominal plates below it.

"Prowl..." The soft, pleading sound escaped the smaller mech as the Praxian's wings slipped from his fingers. Jazz didn't know what he was asking for exactly, only that what the larger mech was doing was intensely _good_.

Prowl's engine revved at the sound and the intensity in the field he was paying close attention to. His hands abandoned their explorations to stroke and tease the black bands while his lips and glossa worked more delicate seams.

It wasn't long before his focused attention had the mech under him writhing and keening from the pleasure, the smaller mech's responses boarding on incoherent as energy built in his frame, pushing past thinking.

Just the echo of that pleasure was enough to heat Prowl's frame, drawing a low moan from him as he focused his glossa and lips on those abdominal plates while his hands moved further down to dig into hip joints, working the multitude of cables, sensors and cogs there.

The overload that tore through Jazz was fast and intense, energy crackling over the smaller mech's plating and locking his frame as he arched off the berth, catching both mechs by surprise. His cry shorted out in static as the charge ripped through his frame, leaping from one mech to the other.

The sheer intensity of the physical pleasure was evident, but the soft whimpers that escaped the smaller mech as the energy released his frame had the very distinctive edge of fear and uncertainty at the complete loss of control the mech making them had just been subjected to.

"Shu, shu," Prowl cooed, ignoring his own state of near-painful arousal to reassure his lover. He eased up Jazz's frame to kiss him, each touch gentle. "It's meant to be like that, no matter how the overload is triggered."

The smaller mech snuggled into him clumsily, accepting the comfort and reassurance being offered, frame still quivering from the aftereffects of the overload.

Prowl continued to gently kiss and nuzzle him, cooing as Jazz's armor began to pop as it cooled. His own charge was still racing through him, demanding he _do_ something he wasn't willing to.

Jazz's field began to ease as his processor finally began to catch up with what had happened and process the pleasure and the result. Blue visor brightened as he started to focus again, turning his helm to meet Prowl's lips in a real kiss as his field brushed over the Praxian.

The uncertainty wasn't quite gone, but it was greatly muted by the sated contentment Jazz was feeling. "That was..." He searched for words as a wandering hand began to trace soft lines down Prowl's side.

"Intense, something to experience again?" Prowl suggested, purring at the contact as his revved up systems took notice of being stimulated again.

The smaller mech nodded slowly, nuzzling against Prowl before drawing back when the waves of arousal rolling off Prowl hit him. He hesitated for a moment, piecing everything together. "What do I need to do?"

"Work on my wings, like you did before," Prowl rumbled, spreading the articulated expanses as he settled over Jazz, bracing himself for an overload that wouldn't be long in coming.

Jazz hummed thoughtfully, reaching up to start at the tips and working his way inwards to the base, fingers playing firmly over the solid surfaces and tracing each articulation with precision.

Steady there, he tilted his helm to kiss lightly at Prowl's neck and jaw, tentative touches at first that slowly grew bolder as Prowl responded with tremors and deep, resonate moans, then rasping pleas for more as his wings pressed into Jazz's hands.

Electricity began to dance across Prowl's frame, causing him to tense and relax somewhat at random. Though his attention was focused on his sensor wings and the intense pleasure flowing from them, his hips rocked, grinding into Jazz's in a now-reflexive movement for pleasure.

Jazz watched and felt, Prowl's expression and reactions captivating, especially knowing that he was the one causing them. Shivers ran through his frame as well every time a spark of energy leapt from the Praxian's frame to his own.

He slid his hands along the panels of the sensor wings and heard Prowl's moan of his pleasure when his lover's fingers slid into the joints on his back, finding all of the sensors and controls there and quickly learning which ones caused the most intense spikes of pleasure.

Prowl's venting became more rapid, each cycle pushing out hotter and hotter air. He pressed into the touch, his back arching slightly as he buried his face against Jazz's neck, his hips still grinding lightly against Jazz's.

Primus it felt _good_.

When Jazz really learned, he'd be able to send Prowl over the edge in a matter of a klik or two if he was trying. For now though, Prowl was enjoying the racing charge once more, welcoming it and the nearing overload openly.

With a quiet moan of his own Jazz focused on the chevron. Prowl had said... Jazz kissed first, then nipped as his fingers found new sensor nodes to stimulate, searching for something that would give his intended what he wanted, needed.

A sudden jerk of Prowl's frame arched his back more, driving Jazz's fingers deeper. He groaned, right on the edge, before his helm was thrown back with a bellow as his golden optics flashed so bright they went nearly white and every cable in his frame pulled taunt.

For a moment Jazz froze, startled, and then the full force of the other mech's pleasure struck him, washing over him and leaving him shaking where he was pinned to the berth.

Just as suddenly Prowl went lax, collapsing onto Jazz except for where his arms held him up a bit. His hips were still grinding slightly against Jazz's, reflexive motions in his pleasure. Even that stilled after a moment as Prowl settled in the contentment of post-overload.

Jazz settled as Prowl relaxed, and after a moment's consideration his arms rose to hold the other mech. The Praxian nuzzled him in return, humming with the lingering pleasure and the warmth of another against him.

Even at the least intimate of overloads, it felt good.

"Enjoy?" Prowl murmured as he eased himself to the side so he wouldn't crush Jazz any more than he already had.

Jazz considered, weighing everything in his processor, and nodded as he shifted to a more comfortable position, still tucked against the Praxian's frame and more than content to stay there.

"Yes."

* * *

Jazz paused in the middle of setting up the game he had selected to play that evening when he heard the door open and checked the time. Prowl had some business of the House that required his attention after the evening meal and had promised to join Jazz later.

When Jazz looked up it was not the Prowl he saw making his way into the common room, but the large and familiar frame of his guardian and mentor.

"You look ... well," Steelplate said cautiously as he approached.

Jazz frowned, setting the piece he was holding down gently. "I am well." He murmured, studying the older mech with concern.

"I saw that Prowl spent the night," Steelplate explained.

"Yes." Jazz relaxed, continuing to work on setting up the game now that he knew there was nothing wrong with the older mech, and what Steelplate wished to speak of.

"It was...very different." Different from anything he had ever experienced before. The loss of control, of being at the mercy of another, would have bothered him far more if that _other_ had been anyone but Prowl. But feeling what Prowl had done for him, and seeing what he could drive the other mech to, the few moments when Prowl was at his mercy, trusting and sharing. "It was nice."

"Good," Steelplate relaxed slightly. "How far did he go?"

"Touch." The memory of just what that touch had consisted of was enough to send a shiver the length of Jazz's frame. Prowl had gone as far as he had promised, and not a bit farther, despite the desire that Jazz had felt from the other mech when he looked back on it now.

A small smile eased itself onto Steelplate's features. "Are you looking forward to going further?"

Jazz did hesitate at that, considering for a while before he looked up to meet the optics of the one mech he had always been able to trust. "I...don't know."

The older mech hummed, them smiled. "If Prowl made you feel good by touching, and asked nothing more of you, it will be _very_ enjoyable to go further. I have little doubt he will take the care needed to break your seals without pain."

Jazz smiled a little. "It's that nice?"

In truth, he was kind of looking forward to that. It was the beyond, what this was all leading up to, that he was still wary of.

"Yes, there is good reason it is such a popular pastime," Steelplate smiled. "I am glad what I have heard seems correct. He is considered an excellent lover, even among the servants."

"And a popular one then." Jazz commented to himself, thoughtful.

Steelplate nodded. "At least a well known one. It is difficult to know how much is one or two very happy lovers and how much is a preference for many different ones. I expected nothing else."

"You and the others are still being treated well?" Jazz asked, choosing to change the subject for the moment. That was something he didn't want to dwell on.

"Quite well," Steelplate accepted the change in subject. Jazz had told him enough. His charge would be treated well and was beginning to like his intended. It was the best he dared hope for. "The others will be leaving next orn, though I will be remaining for a while longer. I hope to remain until the ceremony."

Jazz visibly brightened at that, his field lifting considerably and revealing just how much that meant to him. "I'm glad. I was afraid you would be leaving when the others did."

"It seems your creator is having second thoughts," Steelplate smiled back. "He can do nothing about the contract, but he can justify one servant remaining longer, since I have been your guardian and caretaker for so long. I do not know how long this will last, but it will be at least the rest of the metacycle. I hope it will be much longer. I would like to see you smile after your bonding."

It took a moment for the entire explanation to sink in around the happiness at being informed of Steelplate's extended stay. "My creator is having second thoughts? Why?"

"He knows this is not what you wanted, not even a possibility in your processors," Steelplate reached out to squeeze Jazz's shoulder. "It was too good an opportunity for the House to pass up, but he can still regret doing this to you. He _wants_ you to be happy, Jazz. He truly does."

"I know." Jazz answered simply, venting softly. He understood why, but understanding didn't always make it easier to accept.

"At least Lord Prowl seems intent on treating you well," Steelplate pointed out gently. "Even with as much pressure as he is under, he is not forcing you. It is more than I dared hope for when I heard of this."

"They're pressuring him to move faster?" Jazz guessed, knowing that Steelplate was much closer to the servant gossip than Jazz could ever hope to be, and also knowing that it was often the best overall picture of what was truly going on in a House.

Steelplate nodded sadly. "Word is that he is no more inclined to bond than you. And yes, he is under a great deal of pressure regarding this."

"At least it is something that he has always had to think about it." Jazz observed. When he told Prowl had never seriously considered what he wanted in a bonded, it was because he had honestly been distracted by other things, and there was the small chance he would never bond.

Jazz would have been content to finish his warrior training and spent the rest of his existence defending his House and Prime.

"While always knowing that his desires would be the least important qualities in who he would bond with," Steelplate said gently. "Given his status, his bondings, like his creator's, will always be for the sake of politics."

Jazz nodded, field pulling in closer with all the negative emotions rising, things that he would have to sort through later before he recharged.

"Just try not to take the situation out on Prowl," Steelplate murmured. Hearing the door slide open and quickly made himself appear properly deferential to Jazz as Prowl entered the room.

"Jazz," Prowl greeted his intended politely, his own manner far stiffer and formal with a witness.

"Prowl." Jazz inclined his helm respectfully, matching the mode that Prowl had set with ease as he filed away Steelplate's last comment for further reflection. He nodded at the table. "I thought we might try Sovereign tonight, for a change."

"I find that agreeable," Prowl said as he sat down, regarding the board carefully. The moment the door closed behind Steelplate he visibly relaxed. "You seem thoughtful tonight."

Jazz hummed as he settled down across from Prowl. "Working through some things. I'll...probably meditate before recharging tonight."

If he attempted to rest with all the thoughts jumbling around in his processor as they were it would be a fitful recharge cycle at best and a useless one at worst, a lesson Jazz had learned the hard way long ago.

"Would you discuss it with me?" Prowl asked, trying his best to solicit his intended's thoughts without sounding like he was demanding it. Getting this match to work was proving _far_ more difficult than he had first anticipated, but still much simpler than trying to find a suitable first bonded by socializing.

Jazz tilted his helm, considering silently. It was not that he did not wish to discuss what was going on in his processor with his intended. Especially since so much of it revolved around the mech asking. It was simply that at the moment his thoughts were not even coherent to him, and he had no wish to force them on another. Still, Prowl deserved an answer. "I am ... still trying to reconcile what I had believed my functioning was to be with where it is now." He finally offered, vague but true and all that he could manage words for in the moment.

Prowl inclined his helm, a brush of his field offering sympathy and understanding. "I have the advantage of having known my function since I was first brought online. Though I must admit that I am relieved that at least my first bonded is less political than I expected. I do regret that your desired future has been taken from you."

Such sympathy from an unexpected source caught Jazz slightly off guard, visor lifting from where it had been studying the game to focus on his intended. "I am not what you had expected to have in a bonded?" He finally asked, attention shifting for a moment as he made his move.

"Given the status of this House, I expected to have no say at all and to meet my intended during the ceremony," Prowl admitted, unsubspacing a small tray of confections and two cubes of sweet light energon and setting them to the side of the board between them. "To have any say in the choice was ... thrilling. I was not aware at that point that you were not expecting to be given to seal an alliance to a more powerful House."

"The submission of my profile to the matchmaker was a...point of contention in the House, for a while." Jazz admitted, recalling his own surprise when he had found out.

Prowl cocked his helm and moved without really looking at the board. "What was ... glossed over?"

"Any involvement on my part until after it was submitted," Jazz answered, clearly still bitter about the fact. He could still see the smug satisfaction in his creators second bonded's optics when Jazz had found out too. Not even his creator's reprimand had dimmed her gloating that time, or managed to ease the hurt that Jazz had felt.

He fiddled with a piece for a moment, thumb rubbing absently over the polished surface of the warrior's shield before he set into play. "Why me?"

"You were the most agreeable of those presented," Prowl said simply. "Despite what you may think, you have a very agreeable profile. It seems to be fairly accurate as well."

Jazz stared at him, openly surprised. "What were you looking for, that _I_ was the best one?"

"A strong spark and frame, some skill in the martial arts, a quick wit, intelligence and a good education," Prowl listed off the extras that he or his creators needed in his mate. "An untouched mech was also said, though only when all other factors were equal. Truth be told, as long as they had enough rank, it would have been acceptable if need be. I could always acquire another bonded or breeder if my first could not produce the number of sparklings expected."

Jazz was quiet as he processed that. Truthfully, he fit each and every requirement on the list; his carrier's weak spark something that had not been passed on to either of her creations. "And just how many sparklings are...expected?"

"A dozen or so," Prowl paused. "Though if you do not wish to carry often, I only need two with you. Once I have an heir, time can be given to find a mate who wishes to carry."

"A dozen..." Jazz murmured, processing that as he was reminded once more of the size and prominence of the House he had been given to. His own creator only had half so many between two mates, and Jazz was the youngest.

Prowl nodded. "More if I have more mates ... something that is likely to happen in time."

Jazz vented softly, not offering an opinion on that one way or the other at the moment, even though he knew just how likely it was that Prowl would be required to take at least one more mate.

"But for now...you just need an heir."

"Correct," Prowl nodded. "It will need to happen ... very soon." He said, reluctant about the fact.

He didn't want to ask. He really didn't want to know. But he needed to know, and Jazz had learned long ago that what was wanted and what was needed, especially for the good of the House, were often at odds with each other. "How soon?" He asked quietly.

Prowl's gaze dropped to the board, his own discomfort with the timing never more clear. "You must be carrying within a metacycle of the ceremony."

There was an answering discomfort in Jazz's field, but no surprise. It was the sort of answer he had been expecting, even if he had hoped otherwise.

"And if I fail?" For it was on him the blame would fall was sure, for not being able to fulfill his single purpose for functioning as far as the House was concerned.

"Another Lord Heir will be chosen, likely from among those who already have creations," Prowl's voice held a light tremor of extreme distress. "I am out of time already."

Jazz paused, trying to read between the words and pull up his own lessons on politics inside the larger Houses, honestly curious and more affected by Prowl's stress than he was ready to admit. "What happens to us if another Lord Heir is chosen?"

Prowl met his gaze, steady in the way of a warrior facing certain deactivation. "I am expected to commit suicide."

Jazz's distress was instant. "And the expectations of me?"

"You are a subordinate mate," Prowl said softly. "If another of my close kin does not want you that is agreeable to your family, you are expected to follow me to the Well of All Sparks."

A slow nod of acceptance and understanding, his field steadying at the knowing if not the answer.

"Why did you wait so long?" Jazz asked eventually.

"I am not fond of socializing in the way one might find a mate by attraction. I thought I had time. My creator's condition happened quite suddenly. Within a vorn his time was reduced from millennia to less than a century. I still had so much to learn to take his place. Finding a mate when the matchmaker could do it seemed a waste of time when I had to be ready to become the House Lord. Three matchmakers sought to make a contract with another Praxian. All failed. It was only then that we contacted one with stronger contacts in other territories."

"Why did they fail?" There was no reason Jazz could imagine that one would not wanted to be allied with one of the most powerful Houses in Praxus, especially if one was actually of Praxian heritage.

"There are surprisingly few mecha of the correct age and availability given the short time frame," Prowl said. "Praxus does not have many warrior Houses. Even among them, the political creations are frequently ... weak in design, more looks than processor and frame. This is not a warrior state."

"And the House finds that unacceptable." Jazz concluded, stating the obvious.

"Correct," Prowl nodded. "Unlike some states, we are not so callous to have me take a bonded that would produce ill-suited creations, knowing we will destroy them once I have a suitable bonded and creation. It may be a common practice for such situations in other states, but not here."

While he knew it happened as well, just discussing it was disturbing and abusive on many levels and enough to make Jazz a little angry.

"Agreed," Prowl said to his unspoken reaction. "It is an unacceptable response to the situation. There are, regrettably, many unacceptable responses that are accepted by mecha."

Jazz nodded again, agreement with a fact that he knew all too well.

They played in silence for several rounds before Prowl spoke again. "Now that you have had time to process it, do you have any regrets about last night?"

The same barely muted shiver ran through Jazz's frame, memory of pleasure mixed with the slight edge of fear at the loss of control, even in the arms of one he was beginning to trust. "No regrets."

"Good," Prowl actually purred as his field reached out to caress Jazz. "May I join you again tonight?"

There was no hesitation in the smaller mech's field as he agreed. "Yes."

A small, honest smile crossed Prowl's stern features, lightening his naturally intimidating visage. He reached out to lightly trace his fingers along the back of Jazz's hand. "Perhaps share pleasure again?"

"I might find that idea agreeable." Jazz replied, while his field flared and revealed just how agreeable the prospect was.

Prowl's smile widened a bit, his field replying with desire and the promise of much pleasure. "Then we should retire when we finish this game."

"You're going to beat me anyway." Jazz replied in good humor as he made another move. Already he could see two routes in which Prowl would have him defeated in five moves or less, and he was sure the Praxian could see a half dozen more.

"Are you surrendering?" Prowl regarded him evenly, though his field gave no doubt he would not think less of his intended for it tonight.

"No." Jazz pushed another piece into play. "Just an observation." He wanted to see how Prowl was going to be beat him.

A soft chuckle and flicker of amusement caressed Jazz as Prowl countered him, not taking either of the routes Jazz had seen. "What would you like to explore tonight?"

"I...don't know." Jazz admitted, attempting to distract himself from his own ignorance by figuring out Prowl's plan of attack.

Prowl hummed. "Not something you felt any need to explore?" he extrapolated, his field brushing Jazz's with acceptance.

"I was more concerned with learning to fight." Jazz replied, studying the board and hoping that he had worked out what Prowl was attempting as he moved a warrior across the board. He was still going to lose, but at least if he had guessed correctly this might slow Prowl down a little.

"Perhaps you would be willing to give my spike an overload?" Prowl suggested softly, making another move to counter Jazz and advance on his intended's great lord.

"If that is what you want." The response was neutral, careful.

Prowl paused to consider him carefully. "I would enjoy it, yes. You do not have to, if you are not ready."

Jazz considered, shifting a piece. "I am willing to try." He finally answered. Especially since Prowl was asking what he soon would have a right to demand, if he so chose.

"Thank you," Prowl's tone was soft, the brush of his field supportive. "It may not be as mutually enjoyable as touching is, however I do believe becoming comfortable with my components will make it less stressful for you when I do take your seals."

The uncomfortable ripple in Jazz's field was the only response he got as Jazz made the last sensible move he had available to him and waited for Prowl to claim command of the board and the win. It wasn't long in coming and the small rush in Prowl's field had little to do with victory.

It had everything to do with anticipating what would come next.

Prowl stood smoothly and offered his hand to Jazz.

Jazz took it, leaving the board to be cleared away later, and obediently followed his intended to his berthroom, a space that was quickly becoming _their_ berthroom. Gently, he was drawn against Prowl's chest and kissed, gently and thoroughly.

The kiss was soothing in a way, pleasurable and familiar, and soon had the tension easing from the smaller mech, his frame loosening to fit against the Praxian. He felt _pleasure-approval_ in Prowl's field before he was drawn to the berth and guided down, very much like the previous night.

Above him Prowl settled, returning to the kiss while one hand slid down Jazz's side.

Remembering well the lesson from the night before Jazz's hands reached up, sliding around Prowl's sides and reaching for the sensor wings. He was rewarded by a moan into his mouth and roar of _pleasure-arousal_ in Prowl's field.

Soon lips were trailing along his face, making a slow path to his visor while the hand wandering his side slid between them to caress his abdominal plates.

It was Jazz's turn to moan as the hand slid over his plating with just the right amount of pressure, the pleasure in Prowl's field bleeding into his own and heightening the response. It felt so good to be touched. He could already feel the charge building and his internals heating at the attention Prowl was paying to him.

Gentle kisses glided across his visor, drawing a small moan and whimpers from Jazz, his field flaring out with the desire for _more_ , desiring the pleasure it was quickly learning to enjoy all too much.

Prowl smiled and began to work his way down his intended's face to his throat in a clear repeat of the night before, though moving down a bit faster as he knew where to touch to make Jazz squirm and moan.

Jazz's helm tipped to the side, exposing his throat with complete trust. Already the charge building in his systems was enough to send the odd spark of excess energy across his plating and onto his intended. It felt so good. Not just the physical touch, but the way Prowl's field displayed the Praxian's enjoyment of causing pleasure. It did so much to make what was coming seem less scary. He was really beginning to believe he could trust Prowl to make anything feel good. Even the things that Jazz knew were supposed to hurt.

Soft lip plates caressed down the seam of Jazz's chest without the surge of defensive fear the same motion had sparked the night before. One of Jazz's hands came up to trace the helm and chevron, searching for those things that might return the pleasure dancing along his frame.

He was learning to trust Prowl in this. And if he could learn to trust Prowl in this, perhaps he might yet learn to trust the Praxian in what this was all leading up to, and what was to come after.

A low, pleasured rumble came from Prowl as he continued down, his hands stroking Jazz's abdominal plates while white lips worked their way down.

"Prowl..." The Praxian's designation came out a soft, pleading moan from his lover as dark hands worked over Prowl's shoulder and Jazz's hips lifted in blind memory of the touch that had finally pushed him over the edge that first time.

The sensor winged mech hummed and finished his journey. His glossa flicked out to tease the dark plates, running smoothly along an edge.

Jazz's field surged as the overload slammed through him, though the sounds he made this time were of pure pleasure without a hint of the fear or surprise from before. Against his field Prowl's was hot and welcoming, accepting and fueling the pleasure surging across Jazz's systems and gently easing him down.

"Still enjoying my attentions?" Prowl purred as he eased up Jazz's frame for a kiss.

"Very much so." Jazz answered, lips barely leaving Prowl's long enough to reply before boldly initiating a kiss of his own. It was returned with full fervor, though giving Jazz dominance in the kiss.

Slowly, after several more, Prowl rolled to his back and drew Jazz up, against his side. His spike cover slid open, but he kept his spike in its housing. "Touch me?"

There was a moment of hesitation at his request before Jazz nodded, a hand wandering curiously down Prowl's plating from where Jazz was snuggled against him.

"Take your time," Prowl nuzzled him. He was ready to help guide Jazz's hand if need be, but until then he was determined to let his lover do as he pleased.

Gentle fingers led the investigation, stroking softly over the housing before circling the opening. The rush of _arousal-pleasure_ that crashed through Prowl's field drew a moan from Jazz as well as Prowl. Prowl's spike began to slide out, the rubbery conical tip nudging against Jazz's fingers.

Despite Prowl's efforts to control his reaction, it was _difficult_. His field, wrapped so intimately with his intended's gave away just how incredibly revved up he was and how much that little touch affected him.

As deeply as their fields were blended Jazz allowed most of his attention to focus on the pressurizing spike, relying on the emotions and sensations he was receiving as feedback as his fingers worked over the emerging spike.

Prowl's helm fell back, his vents wide open and his mouth slightly open as his optics shut off to revel in the sensations. He held nothing back, not his moans or the ecstasy ripping in his field as curious touches continued to explore the spike, tracing each ridge and lightly after the first reaction to that touch, then running along the entire length of the shaft from base to tip once it was fully exposed.

Hesitation still flickered though Jazz's field, but the flares were growing fewer and farther between as Prowl encouraged him. It was impossible to miss how much his intended was enjoying even his clumsy, exploratory touches.

Gently Prowl brought his hand up to Jazz's, wrapping black fingers around his shaft and guide him in how to rub just right. His other hand wrapped around Jazz's shoulders to draw him down into a kiss that Jazz was only too willing to share, moaning softly as their lips met. Jazz was a quick study even in this, and his hand soon imitating what Prowl was showed him easily. When the white fingers fell away, leaving Jazz to work on his own, it was a moment of pride. Against him Prowl's entire frame hummed as he moaned, his hips rocking into the hand curled around his spike.

"Close," the Praxian warned as his helm fell back once more, his entire frame and awareness committed to focusing on the intense sensations rushing into him from his spike.

"Good." Jazz purred, kissing Prowl's neck and jaw as his other hand rose to trace along the chevron's length. Not once did his hand stop its attention on the quivering spike, gliding, squeezing and twisting to stimulate each ridge and sensory node as Prowl had shown him.

He felt the charge peak a single stroke before Prowl keened and thrust his hips up hard. An arc of silvery transfluid erupted from the tip of Prowl's spike to fall across black abdominal plating as Prowl lost himself in the bliss of the moment where nothing else existed. Small shivers ran the length of Jazz's frame from the rush of his lover's overload. They did nothing to mask the pride in his field as the smaller mech snuggled in against his intended, waiting for Prowl to come down from the high and enjoying the pleasure slipping across meshed fields.

He could get used to this. It felt amazing to be the center of Prowl's attention, whether Prowl was touching him or he was touching Prowl. Touching Prowl like this sure worked quickly too.

Lazily Prowl turned his helm to kiss Jazz a bit sloppily. "That felt very good."

"Good." Jazz answered, initiating another kiss as he relaxed into where he was, pressed against his intended's side and very content for the moment. His intended seemed to be just as content to remain there.

The only action Prowl made was to dig a cloth out of his subspace and wipe his plating clean before relaxing into a light recharge, content to have Jazz snuggled against him and the progress of the orn.

* * *

The next evening they didn't even bother with the game. Prowl could read Jazz's excitement in the younger mech's frame the moment he stepped into the common room. With a smile and gentle kiss, he led his intended into Jazz's berthroom.

"Ready to try something new?" Prowl purred into a kiss as he guided Jazz to sit on the berth with him.

Jazz was already snuggled against his side, fingers running lightly along a sensor wing as he tilted his helm for another kiss. "Yes."

"Good," Prowl rumbled, his wing pressing into the touch eagerly. "My valve is eager for some attention."

Jazz's field slowly blended with his, open curiosity as to what his lover had to show him tonight. Prowl's field was already hot with anticipation against his, adding to the anticipation for the night and what was coming. Warm lip plates pressed against Jazz's as Prowl reached into his subspace to put something out.

"My favorite macrio," Prowl purred, showing Jazz the spike-shaped object. Colorful, with ridges, nodules, a curved tip and bulbous base.

Jazz held put a hand, silently asking to see and was handed the object without hesitation.

"It also vibrates and releases a small charge," Prowl added, showing Jazz the simple button controls for each.

"And you want me to...?" Jazz asked quietly, offering it back.

"Slide it in an out of my valve," Prowl nearly shivered in anticipation of the pleasure. "Watch, feel it through me," he leaned down to kiss his intended, his voice growing husky with arousal. "Get used to the idea that it's going to feel _amazing_ to have a spike inside you."

Jazz moaned softly into the kiss, already shivering himself just from Prowl's arousal. "Show me."

"Any time," Prowl promised, pushed everything good he felt about what was coming through his field. He shifted back to kneel in the center of the berth and slid his valve cover open. Knowing fingers stroked the platelets surrounding his valve entrance, drawing a moan. He spread his wings and knees, making the effort to display himself for the mech he most wanted to find him desirable.

For a moment Jazz hung back, admiring. Truly his intended was one of the most hansom mecha he'd ever laid optics on, and even more so now with the desire and arousal rolling off him.

Unable to resist Jazz slid forward, lips meeting Prowl's in a kiss that muffled the next moan as a dark hand slid down the Praxian's front. Prowl's moan and flare of _arousal-yes_ encouraged him, eager to have Jazz so active in the sharing.

The hand slid farther, dark fingers moving in to explore next to Prowl's touch light and curious and holding back, waiting to be shown what pleased most.

Prowl trembled and pulled Jazz's helm forward for a deep, passionate kiss. His fingers disappeared from between his legs and pressed gently against Jazz's lip plates, requesting rather than demanding. It took the smaller mech a moment to realize what his lover wanted before white lips parted, welcoming.

Golden optics were bright as Prowl watched his fingers slowly disappear into Jazz's mouth. He shivered at the sensation of being inside that oral cavity and rumbled in arousal.

"Explore, touch me," he struggled not to moan at the first lick of Jazz's glossa. "Press your fingers inside me if you want."

Prowl's fingers became the first order of business, visor dimming a bit as Jazz sucked slowly, glossa running along the lengths and getting a first literal taste of Prowl in the gooey slickness of his valve lubricant. It really was like nothing he had to compare to, a little bitter, a bit sweet, but mostly that rich, earthy metallic flavor that the finest off-world magma generated energon had.

Only when Prowl was moaning from that attention did other reappear, fingers and palm running over the platelets before pulling back so that just fingers circled the opening to his valve, discovering what made Prowl push into his touch and moan before venturing any deeper. He was grateful that Prowl didn't seem inclined to hold back his reactions, verbal or physical. There was also no missing the way Prowl's intakes hitched each time he rubbed against the rim or platelets directly in front or back of the valve.

It was less than a breem before Prowl had gripped Jazz's shoulders to steady himself, his entire focus on the pleasure coursing through him.

Jazz purred, clearly pleased with himself as fingers dipped deeper into the valve, still moving carefully but with a new boldness, feeling the slickness of the lining that allowed for such easy movement and pausing for only a moment when they encountered a bump.

The first touch on a sensor node made Prowl arch and keen, his fingers tightening as his field flooded with intense pleasure.

Jazz moaned softly, nudging at Prowl's helm until he could get a kiss from the Praxian as his fingers stroked over the node again, stimulating it and searching for more to tease and pleasure as his free hand crept around to find one of the fluttering sensor panels.

"Won't last much longer," Prowl nearly whined, his frame trembling with the building charge.

"Than I'm doing a good job." Jazz purred playfully, even as his own frame was twitching and vibrating from where it was pressed up against Prowl's and being teased by the Praxian's rapidly growing charge.

"Yes, you are," Prowl gasped as the fingers on his back sunk into a wing joint, seeking a particular set of receptors the Jazz had discovered buried there. Fingers had settled into rhythm, stroking over the sensor nodes he was able to reach from this angle.

Smiling, Jazz kissed Prowl quickly and shifted his attention to his intended's chevron. With first slid of glossa along chevron Prowl screamed into a roar, his frame locking up, valve tightening around the intruding digits and his helm was thrown back in the bliss of an intense overload. Energy rushed through all his systems and jumped to Jazz, concentrated at the fingers inside Prowl's valve and the highly conductive gel that valve lubricant is.

Jazz keened at the energy surging through his frame and his field, the burning tingle of his fingers buried in the rippling valve sending an extra shiver through him.

He pulled them away and pressed against Prowl as he felt his intended come down from the high, one hand still stroking along a sensor wing as his own frame quivered with pent up charge and his field begged for attention and a release of his own.

Slowly Prowl's ventilations slowed, his wavering frame steadying enough for him to notice what was around him. With a soft sound he tipped Jazz's mouth up for a kiss while his other hand slid between them to stroke Jazz's abdominal plates.

The smaller mech moaned into the kiss and pressed into the touch, honestly desiring what was being offered and the mech who was offering it. It felt so good, natural even, and he could never forget that Prowl was required to do none of this for or to him. All that was required of Prowl was to take him in a way to produce a sparkling. A spark merge to create the new spark and frequent deposits of transfluid in his valve to ensure the new creation carried enough House programming and looks to be accepted as Prowl's heir. Jazz's pleasure was irrelevant to the demands.

Yet in this arrangement that neither of them had wanted, Jazz had found someone who encouraged his training, his interests, and even took the time and effort to ensure his pleasure.

Yes, pleasure ... oh those fingers caressing his abdominal plates were delightful, pushing his charge higher.

Charge that was soon dancing over his plating and tickling and teasing the fingers of the mech providing it. Jazz's hand continued to the play over the closest sensor wing, his other latched on tightly to his intended's shoulder in a very small effort to remain grounded for the moment.

A soft whine escaped him, quickly swallowed in mutual kiss as Jazz unconsciously began to rub his entire frame against Prowl's, seeking contact and that final push over the edge into the bliss that was coming. Strong white fingers slipped further down, pressing with just the right amount of force over Jazz's spike cover to send an intense jolt of pleasure into him.

The surge was enough to trip the overload as well, Jazz keening as his hips bucked into the touch and energy crackled over his frame and that of the mech holding him.

Prowl moaned softly, relishing the pleasure he was feeling from Jazz, pleasure he caused. He held his intended gently, humming, his engine purring, as he watched Jazz overcome by pleasure and come down.

Soft purring matched his as the smaller mech came down from the high and snuggled into Prowl, nuzzling at the Praxian's shoulder as he curled against the larger mech.

"We'll play with toys another night," Prowl smiled and guided Jazz to lay down with him, shifting easily to scoop up his favorite macrio and subspaced it even as they settled.


	4. Turmoil

Jazz checked his reflection once more in the mirror quickly. Not that Evening Bronze's work was ever anything less than perfect, but the entire immediate family was to be attending breakfast this morning; all of Bladedrift's siblings, his creations, their mates and their creations, and Jazz would not shame Prowl by showing up less than perfect. More than a hundred and eighty mecha would be in the great dinning hall for the once a decaorn social gathering that he'd learned was the bane of his intended's existence, and was quickly becoming the bane of his as well.

Satisfied that he had not damaged his finish he started for the door, only to stop when the door opened before him and Steelplate stepped in. He looked far too serious for Jazz's taste. Things had been going so well lately there had been little need for serious looks.

Jazz waited until the door closed and Steelplate came deeper into the room. He still would not have been surprised to discover that his privacy was mostly an illusion, but what other others did not witness with their own optics and did not hear clearly with their own audios could always be contended.

"Steelplate?" He prompted softly, gaze focused unerringly on his mentor.

The following silence and careful way the older mech looked him over from helm to foot was more troubling, and Jazz had to fight down the urge to squirm like a youngling.

"It seems my stewardship of you has come to an end, my Lord Jazz," Steelplate said quietly. "I leave for Simfur this orn."

Surprise froze Jazz's frame as he processed the rather simple statement. "Why?" He finally managed to ask.

"I have been here nearly ten decaorn," the elder mech reached out to squeeze Jazz's shoulder gently. "Longer than I expected to be allowed to remain. It is time for me to return home and resume my duties for my Lord's House."

His Lord's House. Jazz's systems stuttered slightly as he sought to remain in control. Steelplate's home. Once Jazz's as well.

"I thought you were going to stay until the ceremony." He murmured, hand coming up to rest lightly on the larger mech's arm.

"It was an outside hope, Jazz," Steelplate told him gently. "I hoped to be allowed to remain. It is not to be." He paused and brought out a box not quite the length of his forearm, half as thick and half that wide. There was little decoration to it, only a line of designation glyphs, the last one being Jazz's. The one above it being Steelplate's. The dozen more that preceeded it were of mecha that Jazz didn't know. "I wish you to have this."

Jazz was too distracted to realize what he had been handed at first, still trying to come to terms with the idea that this was quite possibly the last time that he was ever going to see or speak to the mech that had filled the role of second creator for most of his functioning.

 _Surprise-shock-disbelief_ rippled through the small mech's field in rapid succession as he started at the box, then up at the large mech. "Steelplate?"

"You are the closest thing to a creation I am likely to have," the old mech smiled at him and squeezed his shoulder. "I would have you pass it on to one of your creations."

The small frame trembled under his hand, emotion causing the optic shielding visor to flicker until, in a the same headstrong manner that Steelplate had come to know very well in his charge, Jazz threw propriety out the proverbial window and wrapped his arms around the large mech in a fierce embrace.

Steelplate smiled and returned the embrace, his systems rumbling in a soothing harmonic for the young noble.

Jazz still wasn't settled when the elder mech gently set him back on his feet. "Your intended will be coming to collect you for the morning meal soon, and my escort is going to be waiting on me."

Jazz held on to the larger mech's hand tightly for a moment, still searching for words for all of the emotions running through his field. Fear, sorrow, affection, love...all of them spilling through broken defenses. "Thank you." He finally murmured, ashamed of how pitiful it sounded even to him.

"Thank you, for making an old mech proud," Steelplate gently lowered his forehelm against Jazz's. "Even if we never touch again, I will not forget you. I will call when I can. I would have you send me datapads of your life. Pictures of all the important moments I can not be here for."

It wouldn't be the same as the mech being there to witness it for himself, and they both knew it. Jazz wanted with all of his spark for Steelplate to be present for those times. But even he wasn't selfish enough to say what would only cause more hurt.

"I will." He promised quietly, taking Steelplate's lead and slowly regaining his composure. 

They had managed to separate and appear at least proper enough when Prowl entered the room, the box now safely tucked in Jazz's subspace. It only took one glance at the Praxian to know he had picked up that _something_ had happened, but he wasn't going to press for details. At least not yet.

"If you are ready," Prowl focused on Jazz, his sensor wings canted to express his concern that his intended was upset.

"Thank you." Jazz said again to Steelplate before nodding to Prowl. "Yes."

Prowl settled his wings in a neutral stance and offered his arm to Jazz, a familiar tradition by this point. The smaller mech accepted it willingly, falling into step with his intended and resisting the urge to look back at his mentor. His field was pulled in tightly, a secondary defense as he finished getting his emotions under control during the walk. It wasn't just to protect him from being discovered, but to protect him from the displeasure-distress that inevitably settled into Prowl for these breakfasts. As much as the Lord Heir felt at home during the working dinners, he _detested_ these larger family gatherings.

The family dinners were reasonably pleasant for Jazz as well. Unlike these breakfasts, he was allowed to generally be quiet as the business of organizing a large, powerful House was handled during the evening meals. He had also learned that he wasn't the only political bonded to attend, and those that did were included in the discussions when they had knowledge to be useful.

Family breakfasts, with their much larger contingent and social function, were difficult at best and a nightmare at worst. The family was excited about Prowl's bonding and all it meant. It didn't matter who they were seated nearby, which as far as Jazz had worked out was randomly assigned each time as the only mech in the same location each time was the House Lord. Even mates were seated nearby only occasionally. Prowl had mentioned that they would enter the normal rotation and often be separated eight vorns after bonding. Much of the current conversation was of who would be attending the ceremony, the difficulties with such a short courting, the decorations, how good they would look. It was understandable, if annoying to both mechs about to bond. The comments about Jazz's lack of status and that he wasn't of Praxian descent were mercifully kept very limited.

The worst for Jazz was the almost endless fascination and talk of the sparklings to come. What they would look like, what their gifts might be, how long it would take before Prowl's true heir came. The first creation may have the status by default, but as Prowl was proof, they were not always the one who was finally chosen to lead the House. There were even suggestions, made to Prowl, as to how to ensure his creations at least looked fully Praxian.

It was debatable which of them found that line of conversation more embarrassing.

Jazz weathered it all like he did at all of the large family meals, not rising to some of the comments offered by Prowl's siblings. Some of them were clearly offered without consideration that they might be offensive, others Jazz wasn't so sure weren't deliberate jabs that stopped just short of crossing the line that would have earned a reprimand.

Other questions, and the true inquiries to his well-being and how he was settling, often came from the Lord of the House's mates and the mates of the elder creations, and were answered sincerely and a little relief at normal conversation.

Still, it was a trying ordeal that Jazz was never sorry to see come to an end, and thankful only occurred once a decaorn. At least by now his appearance on Prowl's arm was just the normal way of things. He nodded politely the greetings he received from Prowl's kin and their mates. There was a charge in the air this time, an excitement that wasn't normally present.

Prowl canted his sensor wings several times, some of which Jazz took as curiosity or question, but most were more complex moves than he understood yet. By the time they were seated, Prowl had caught the excitement, even if he barely showed it.

"Amethyst," Prowl motioned to a gleaming purple femme at a different long table who was chatting in a quite animated fashion to those nearby. "Is confirmed to be carrying twins."

"Then congratulations are in order, and thanks for the blessing to the House." Jazz answered, offering the proper response and meaning it sincerely as he ran a check on the designation. She was one of Prowl's older siblings, a warrior rather than political creation. He didn't really have notes on her, other than Prowl didn't seem to avoid her during his rounds, but that meant little when Prowl was scrupulous about not allowing his personal feelings to affect his performance of duties. The very fact that he knew so little of her was the best marker that Prowl didn't _like_ her, but also that she was not one who had earned his ire by making his functioning difficult.

No matter what her standing, the announcement of a twin carry was something to be celebrated. Incredibly rare and Jazz now knew enough to recognize that while the general population had mixed views on twins, warrior Houses valued them highly for their bond and ability to communicate and anticipate on a level not even the best bonded mates could manage.

If Jazz was lucky might well turn into the focal point of the meal and allow them some peace for a change. It certainly had the full attention of everyone as cleanser was brought around for each mecha to wash their hands with.

Knowing now what the general excitement was about, Jazz cleansed his hands when the servant offered, relaxing and allowing his field to ease out at the familiar routine as conversation started to settle around the tables with the arrival of the last straggling, but still punctual, members of the family. There was no such thing as fashionably late in this House.

"Has your spark-line ever produced twins?" a white mech with deep purple and gold trim focused on Jazz as the appetizers began to be severed. This style of serving was odd to Jazz too. While the intimate family business dinners were normally presented with each mecha receiving a prepared plate, here there were large platters, baskets or carafes that were passed around and each mecha took what they wanted before passing it on.

Jazz took advantage of the basket passed to him, taking a moment to make his selection from the small mineral cakes that he honestly did favor. It gave him time to recall as far back was relatively prudent.

Passing the basket on to Prowl he turned his attention back to the speaker, finally placing the mech as the bondmate of another one of Prowl's elder siblings. "Two generations back there was a set of twins, but they are not in my direct spark line. Their carrier was my grand-kindler's half sibling."

There was a general sense of approval to that answer, especially from Prowl. It was a reminder that as careful as Prowl was about mentioning sparklings around him, he really did want them.

"Wouldn't it be exciting, to have your first be twins?" A black and sky blue femme across from them nearly trilled.

Jazz could feel the intense surge of _desire-approval_ in Prowl.

"Yes, it would be extraordinary," Prowl said, his reaction more muted than his field would have suggested. "Though perhaps not for my first creation. It would make it less agreeable to train them as politicals. Twins belong as warriors."

Jazz focused on the plate in front of him to avoid saying something he knew he shouldn't. It didn't hurt that he was honestly hungry, and at least if he wasn't addressed directly, or if Prowl was willing to answer in his place, he wasn't expected to speak. Thinking about it he even filtered the emotions in his field a little, doing his best to keep the negative ones close to home as the conversation once again descended into talk of the ceremony, hope for the first creation ... and then to how many Prowl hoped for.

Jazz tried not to cringe at the honest answer of a dozen or more, or at the intense approval that came from all who heard.

"Are you planning to take Metronome as a second mate when Bladedrift extinguishes?" An older warrior asked. It took Jazz a moment to place him as Lord Bladedrift's third creation. "She is still young enough to maintain the alliance."

"I would prefer not to," Prowl actually smiled slightly at his older sibling. "I happen to know her House finds it agreeable for her to be taken in by one of my siblings, if she would be their first bonded."

A few knowing looks passed between nearby mecha, along with a couple grins at the politely phrased request for the young femme.

Jazz couldn't quite catch the flicker of relief that slipped through his field at Prowl's answer. It was almost inevitable that Prowl would eventually just take at least one more mate, but he still wasn't keen on sharing that soon either. Anyway, he had a good idea that Metronome would be a good match for the older warrior based on Prowl's opinion of him. Jazz was fond of Lord Bladedrift's youngest bonded; she had always been kind to him and he would like seeing her happy.

His optics scanned the table and he noticed a platter that had appeared with a variety of magma solids he knew Prowl was fond of, and without really thinking about it he picked it up and offered it to his intended. Prowl offered him a smile and warmly affectionate brush across their fields as he selected a few.

Briefly, watching other pairs, he was reminded that he _was_ lucky with Prowl. The circumstances sucked big time, but his intended was a good mech and far kinder and more affectionate than he had ever expected. It was a reminder of Prowl's words early on, that the Praxian _desired_ a loving bond, that he wanted a mate that would be happy at his side.

It was clear that was not always the case.

With a very soft vent he placed the platter back on the table. At least Prowl had honestly been looking for a mate when Jazz was selected, and the alliance was a secondary consideration instead of the primary reason for their bonding.

Speaking of bonding- Jazz had to hold in another sigh as the conversation several seats down shifted once more to the ceremony that was coming up. As Lord Heir of the House of Shining Sun it could be nothing less than a massive public affair, and not the sort that Jazz was used to from small province upbringing, where any sort of public bonding ceremony was really a time of celebration.

From the sound of it, Prowl's bonding would rival the bonding of the Lord of Simfur. Not only was the entire province going to watch, either at the ceremony itself or at one of many broadcast points, but they were paying for energon and time off for three entire orns for every single mecha in their territory, resident or traveler. The cost of that made Jazz's mind swim. Even the governor of the province of Simfur couldn't afford that. The single orn holiday when his Heir had bonded had been considered extravagant and talked about for metacycles afterward.

Then there was the fact that Nova Prime himself would be officiating.

That was enough to make Jazz quiver a little, because the Prime would most likely know who he was. It was his creator's rescue of the Prime in a battle that had earned him his House and title after all.

It was getting to the point that Jazz was starting to dread the ceremony almost as much as the heavy pressure for the sparkling he was to produce, apparently immediately and with all of the qualities to be Prowl's perfect heir. His higher functions knew that was an exaggeration, but it didn't stop it from _feeling_ like he was expected to do the impossible on command.

His thoughts were interrupted by a brush of Prowl's field, questioning and a bit concerned.

Outwardly calm, Jazz offered reassurance that he was holding it together in return, and a glimpse of the stress that seemed to be his constant companion these orns by way of a general explanation.

Stress that Prowl knew was aggravated in settings like this, and that had been running high from learning of Steelplate's imminent departure. Expected, and thus with a brush of _affection-support_ Prowl focused on his kin once more, this time trying not to snap at a well-meaning sister of his creator when she offered graphic advice on how to ensure his creations looked fully Praxian, even though they wouldn't be.

It wasn't the first time they'd heard it, and Jazz doubted it would be the last. It was just another item he studiously ignored the insult potential of.

He was still tense as they left the breakfast gathering, not missing the small comments that followed them out as he and Prowl departed. It really wasn't anything he hadn't heard before, but hearing it over and over, like there was something he could do about it or if they talked about it long enough something would change, was grating on his already fraying nerves.

Prowl waited until the door closed to the common room of their suite. "What is bothering you?" he solicited, doing his best to sound caring despite his own stress.

Jazz quivered, getting himself under control before he snapped at Prowl over something his intended could do little about. He sighed, though the sound came out more like a growl, "Listening to them, talking about sparklings like it is going to be theirs and not ours, so concerned with what it's going to _look_ like, of all things!"

That wasn't all of it, but it was the first thing to come to mind that wasn't deeply personal.

Prowl cocked his helm, the cant of his sensor wings confused. "Appearances are important. It may be embarrassing to hear repeatedly, but they are only trying to make things better for the sparklings. It is accurate advice."

His intended stared at him. "So if the sparkling is unlucky enough to look like me at all it isn't going to be good enough?" He asked, voice dangerously controlled.

"For me? Yes." He said firmly. "For society ... it will have difficulties if it is of a political inclination."

"So really what is comes down to is I'm not good enough for most of your family, and neither is any sparkling I'm likely to produce, even though I need to have one as soon as possible." Jazz rumbled.

Elegant sensor wings flared, their three fingers separating and angling outward to make the display of puffed out armor and scowl far more intimidating. "You are good enough for me, and for my creator. The rest of the family will accept that or face the consequences."

Jazz vented roughly, though some of his own aggression drained away at the display.

"Jazz," Prowl forced his reflexive display to settle somewhat and reached out for his intended. "My first bonded is a political powder keg. There are several mecha in that room who wanted the position. There will _always_ be dissenters and those who want to hurt you simply for being my first, or for not being Praxian. You were chosen."

"As the last choice." Jazz murmured, knowing that he was being unfair but so exhausted by the whole situation he was finding it hard to care in the moment.

Prowl paused. "Yes," he consented to the truth.

Jazz shrugged. It was a truth he had known since the beginning, even if it still hurt. He didn't realize Prowl had moved until a strong white hand touched his upper arm. He twitched, looking at the hand in surprise before pulling back from the touch. It was far too close to how Steelplate had always comforted him, a memory that hurt.

The rejection visibly surprised Prowl and he took a step back, considering his intended briefly. "I will leave you to meditate, if you wish."

"It ... might be a wise idea." Jazz finally agreed. "I ... was not expecting Steelplate to be departing so soon." he explained, rubbing at his shoulder.

Prowl hesitated again. "Would you tell me about him, what he is to you?"

Jazz shifted, thinking quietly for a moment, before he reaching into his subspace and pulling out the blade case he had tucked away that morning, laying it down reverently on a table where Prowl could see it as well and sighing as he sought words to explain.

A delicate touch traced the line of glyphs as Prowl's sensor wings flared into separate fingers once more. Golden optics moved from the box to lock onto Jazz's visor, waiting for an explanation.

"My carrier passed away not long after I was created. My creator was gone more often then he was home. Steelplate was..." Jazz's voice trailed off. Mentor. Friend. Confident. Protector. Teacher. "Everything."

"Your sparker's second mate did not like you," Prowl extrapolated.

"She did not like my carrier. Once she might not have cared about me one way or the other. As I grew older...she hated me. It was she who submitted my profile to the matchmaker."

Prowl's understanding hum had the dissonant tone of disapproval. "Yet if she had not, you would not be here."

"No, I would not." There was bitterness in the agreement. No, he would still be home, training to join his creator and building a future as a warrior.

"I understand," Prowl said more stiffly than he was towards Jazz even in public. "I will leave you to meditate. This," he tapped the box, "should not be seen by anyone else. It will go badly."

Jazz's visor flashed at the change in Prowl's tone and the perceived threat. "Understood." He responded curtly, snatching the case up and turning away, frame quivering slightly from the strain of everything weighing on him.


	5. Making Peace

The walked in silence, Jazz properly on Prowl's arm as he had been every orn on the way back from the evening meal for the last three orns. He removed his hand as they reached the entrance to the courting suite, turning to face his intended and thank him properly for escorting him and for his consideration - Jazz couldn't find it in himself to use the word care any more - and wish him a pleasant evening.

If he had known that refusing to join Prowl for breakfast that first orn after they had snapped at each other was going to result in this ... he still wasn't sure what he would have done different. That morning he had been too distressed with his intended to face the Praxian, and had avoided him most of the orn. By the time he had finished his training with the House's weapons master he had himself under control once more, in no small part from the stinging comments and disappointed looks he had earned and received for making raw beginner mistakes in exercises he had mastered centuries ago.

He'd returned to their quarters, cleaned up, and set up the board for Sovereign so it would be ready after the evening meal.

Only Prowl had left him at the door with only a polite good orn after dinner and never set foot inside.

The next morning it had been Prowl who had been absent at breakfast. Had, in fact, left Jazz to his own devices the entire orn until dinner time once more, where he had shown up to escort his intended to the meal and deposited him at his room as soon as it was over.

A pattern that had continued to this as Jazz bowed respectfully to Prowl. "My thanks for your consideration this evening. Good orn, Prowl."

This time he caught the movement of well-controlled sensor wings and the slight sway of Prowl's frame that wasn't normally there. A glance up and he saw ... something ... in Prowl's strong features that wasn't there before.

It took a moment for Prowl to gather himself before speaking.

"Would you join me for a game of Sovereign this evening?"

"I...of course." Jazz murmured politely, quickly burying his confusion. "Where do you wish to play?"

"Our common room," Prowl motioned to the space that had seen so little use in the past three orns.

There was a flicker of hesitation before Jazz stepped aside, allowing Prowl to enter first. For the first time in three orns, Prowl's field brushed against his. It was hesitant ... and carried a wealth of apology that had not been voiced yet.

The answering flicker of hope was quickly caught and squashed as the smaller mech followed Prowl through the entryway and across the common room to where the game board was laid out and waiting, each piece precisely in place, as it had been for several orns.

Still unsure what to make of this new development, Jazz waited for an invitation to be seated.

"Please," Prowl motioned to where Jazz usually sat, watching as his intended settled. "I believe we have both reacted excessively to words and stress. It is time to work through the issues that created it and what resulted."

Only the familiarity Prowl had developed with Jazz gave away how much thought the smaller mech was giving to those words as he sat quietly in the seat across from Prowl, field pulled in too tightly and held with too much control to be easily read and face neutral.

"If that is what you wish." Was the answer he finally got, though the tone and the slight loosening of Jazz's field undercut the formalness of the phrasing.

"It is," Prowl said firmly. "Do you wish to move first?" he indicated the game.

With a nod of acknowledgement and thanks Jazz considered the layout and made what was for him a standard opening move, the textbook placement of one of his scouts out in the field.

"Please try to explain to me why you became upset," Prowl requested as he countered with one of his ops pieces.

That made Jazz pause, his own ops agent hanging in the air as he tried to find a place to start, and finally countered with a question of his own. "Which time?" Not that he had ever truly calmed down, but he could count at least twice that his level of defensive anger had spiked in the short time.

"At the family breakfast."

Jazz vented softly, thinking, considering. He could still hear them, every comment. The ones from breakfast and those when he was not with Prowl, whispered when he passed others in the hall and uttered just loud enough to that he could overhear but still soft enough to be a private conversation when he was in a room.

His family. His history. His appearance. The fate of his carrier. Wonder that Prowl would deem him an acceptable mate, even in this time of need. Predictions of his failure. Surety that he would find a way to bring shame to the House.

"The words." Jazz started, stumbling as he realized why they had hurt so much more that morning. Why what he had always been able to brush off before had cut so much deeper. "And how you just go along with whatever they have to say."

Prowl forcefully stopped himself from a near-reflexive statement that they were not wrong and made himself consider just how much he wanted to make this bonding match his private desires for it. Was Jazz worth challenging his family? Was Prowl's own happiness worth the issues it could cause? His tactical computer informed him that there was no question. The good of the House and harmony within the war machine that gave the House its power was more important than any individual's desires.

Yet ... he did not accept that answer.

Prowl dropped his optics slightly, studying the board even though he wasn't seeing it.

"What, specifically, would you have me challenge?"

"You don't have to challenge them," Jazz responded quickly. Disharmony was the last thing he wanted to be the cause of, and he'd had far too much experience living in a house almost divided. "Just ... don't encourage it. Change the subject or something."

"I can do that," Prowl agreed to the middle ground that was likely to cause minimal disruption with anyone in the House that he was on agreeable terms with. "Is there anything else?"

"Not that is worth the effort to do anything about." Jazz decided quietly. "As you have pointed out, there are going to be those who are never going to like me."

Prowl reached out to place his hand gently on top of Jazz's. "I am not one of those."

Desperate hope flared in Jazz, need that he did not want to acknowledge existed but that he couldn't escape. He wanted to believe what Prowl was saying, wanted to believe that there was someone else that would accept him unconditionally.

But it was _hard_.

"I am not the only one here that approves of you," Prowl added. "My creators, Lady Metronome, Master Ziariace, several of my warrior kin. Mecha whose opinions carry weight in the House support you. Perhaps never enough to completely silence your detractors, but know that those with the authority to matter are not against you."

Jazz nodded. In truth it was more than he had most of his functioning. Something he was going to have to adjust to.

"Thank you." He murmured, using his free hand to move shift his priest on the board.

Prowl lightly entwined their fingers as he moved a rookie warrior. "What did I say that upset you?"

"Not the words. Just...your reaction." Steelplate had been the only mech Jazz had ever been able to trust unconditionally. The one stable point in his life that he could always turn to.

Prowl cocked his helm. "To what?"

"The gift that Steelplate left for me. What he was to me." Jazz finally admitted, wary of setting Prowl off again. The frown that crossed Prowl's features made him more uneasy.

"How did I react that you found disrespectful?" Prowl asked after running the scene through several times.

"Disrespectful?" Jazz shook his helm. "You don't approve."

"I meant no such thing," Prowl said firmly, his wings reacting to his surprise by flaring. "I disapprove of how your creator's second bonded treated you."

Jazz's hand twitched against his, tightening slightly as he looked at Prowl and shrugged. "What she did is done. Maybe with me gone things will be better."

"What did I do that made you believe I disapprove of Steelplate?" Prowl asked.

"Your reaction to the blade." Jazz shifted, clearly a little uncomfortable. "I won't wear it, if that is what you want, but carrying it around like this..."

It was disrespectful.

"I want to protect you," Prowl said softly. "This is a warrior House. There isn't a mecha here, from youngest political to lowest slave, that doesn't know what it means. It would raise unpleasant questions to carry one that was not your creator's or a Master's."

"I know." Jazz admitted, his own dilemma soothed a bit by the understanding and what he could tell was truth on Prowl's part to honestly protect him.

"A plan can be worked out so you may wear it. Just not right away," Prowl added. "When you finish your training, either your Master or House Lord will traditionally present you with a blade if you do not have the right to one. It may not be the full truth, but you will be permitted to wear it uncontested."

"I would appreciate that." Jazz commented quietly, focusing on the game enough to move another one of his warriors into a defensible position. "My Sire's is to go to his second bonded's eldest creation, and my carrier was no warrior."

"Then it would please me for you to wear Steelplate's in lieu of a new one from me, as the Lord of your House," Prowl said with the odd mix of formal and warmth that Jazz was beginning to recognize as a promise made out of affection.

A promise that was met with a loosening of Jazz's field to rest against Prowl's, full of thanks. There was still an underlying wariness, but it was a secondary note to the acceptance ruling it now.

Prowl's field replied with a soft caress, gently entwining along the edges. "Is living here, being with me, truly such a miserable fate?" He asked, addressing his own pain and perceived rejection from that night.

"It is not." Conviction slipped into Jazz's field, and a soft note of apology for having caused Prowl to feel that way. The Praxian had gone out of his way to be accommodating to someone he practically owned, something that Jazz was not going to deny or forget. Despite the anger they had parted in three orns ago, now he was back, of his own volition, trying to make things better, willing to give concessions of a very personal and important nature to make Jazz happy. It was more than Jazz ever thought an arranged bonding could be.

"It is not what I had once hoped for my functioning." Jazz admitted honestly as his hand tightened around Prowl's. "But being with you if far from the misery I had feared."

He was able to find pleasure in the small things like a quiet game in the evening with someone who wished to spend time with him. And he had not realized how dependent and accustomed he had become to the Praxian's presence and quiet attention until it was gone.

A soft reply of relief flickered back as Prowl relaxed, his long sensor wings finally, _finally_ relaxing into the position Jazz was so accustomed to when they were alone together.

"Good," Prowl smiled faintly. "I understand the resentment of losing your chosen path. I only wish for your new path to be one that you eventually choose to embrace fully."

A prospect that Jazz would admit was rapidly growing easier the longer he spent with Prowl. His intended may be quiet, stern, demanding of near-perfection, and with an intense work ethic that alienated more than it endeared, but he was also a deeply caring, passionate and affectionate individual to those he chose to include in his intimate circle.

"Have you ever thought of revenge on your Sire's second bonded?" Prowl asked conversationally as he returned much of his focus on the game.

"Personal?" Jazz asked rhetorically, watching as Prowl made his move and working out how best to try and counter what was rapidly becoming a losing situation for him. As much as he would like to make her pay for all of the suffering she had caused him during his functioning, he had never considered it in more than the abstract. His problems were with her, and not something that Jazz was willing to visit on the House of his Sire. "Not directly. But I would have to be honest and say that that her dislike of me by the time I left was probably well deserved. I was not always the most...obedient...of creations in the House."

And as far as revenge went, Jazz considered as he shifted his priest, seeing a route that might give his intended something to think about even if Jazz still knew that he had no chance of winning, his optics flickered to his intended. This in itself was a form of revenge, for surely his Sire's second bonded never imagined that Jazz would end up in a House with such prominence and the intended of the next Lord of the House.

Prowl hummed and considered the board. "Has it registered yet that even now you outrank her by a significant margin?"

The barest twitch of Jazz's lips betrayed him. "The thought had occurred to me, yes."

"It could be a significant revenge to visit your creation-House after our first creation is old enough to travel," Prowl suggested with just a touch of a smile himself. "Your final memory of her could be of her submission."

"That would be pleasant." Jazz admitted, the added brightness in visor a tell tale to Prowl of just how appealing his intended found the idea. "Since it would not be unreasonable for me to wish to see my Sire again, with the permission of my lord." He added with a touch of humor.

"It would not be unreasonable at all," Prowl agreed with a bit more of a smile. "I am sure he would enjoy seeing his creation and meeting his grand-creation. I would enjoy meeting your Sire as well."

Jazz was openly smiling as he continued the play he had started, moving a warrior so that the piece flanked his priest. Reassurance to his Sire that he was happy, proof to his Sire's second bonded that he was indeed worth _something_ , and a chance for Steelplate to fawn over another sparkling. The visit was sounding more appealing the longer he thought about it.

The warm, happy and approving caress from Prowl's field made it feel all the better. There was no question to him that his intended meant for the trip to happen, and happen as described. Yes, it would not be for several vorns, but it was a prize Jazz was eager to work towards. He would even be able to show his Sire and Steelplate that he was still furthering his training.

Prowl withheld his purr at the pleasure and good mood flowing from his intended, but did nothing to hold back the response in his field as they continued to play. Both mechs fell into the familiar rhythm of the game as it continued, ending with Jazz's inevitable defeat at the hands of his far more experienced intended.

"May I join you in the berth tonight?" Prowl asked as they put the game away in its box.

Jazz considered as he lifted the box, placing it carefully on the shelf with the others and turned back to face his intended. His expression was thoughtful as he stepped close to Prowl, looking up at his intended for a moment before his field stretched out in welcome and his lips gently touched Prowl's.

A soft moan and flare of arousal greeted the boldness as Prowl wrapped his arms around Jazz and pulled him closer, sharing his anticipation. The smaller mech came willingly and with a touch of relief. Their first serious conflict was over, and it felt as though it had ended with a stronger understanding rather than resentment.

"Come," Prowl rumbled with a gentle tug towards Jazz's berth room. "I wish to enjoy your company tonight."

"And I wish to spend it with you." Jazz answered, field teasing against Prowl's. The Praxian's responded with the deep crackle of desire that always promised incredible pleasure as long as Jazz trusted what his intended was going to do or ask of him.

That purring rumble of desire continued as Jazz was gently laid on the berth and Prowl leaned over him, claiming a kiss before settling above him. Jazz's hands reached up, running gently along Prowl's sides and reaching to caress the beautiful sensor wings spread over him. The shiver was an added bonus, Prowl's field flaring out in pleasure.

"What would you like tonight?" Prowl asked, his voice already deepening in arousal.

"Touch me." Jazz asked softly, wanting the kind of pleasure he knew Prowl could give and hands traveling along the wings softly, offering in return.

Prowl smiled and kissed him again, pressing his wings into the touch before beginning to trail kisses across Jazz's face as one arm shifted so he could rub a sensor horn. Jazz purred, leaning into the touch and hands slowing on the wings in his grasp as his entire frame relaxed. He'd missed this more than he ever thought possible to miss something for three orns. Prowl's touch was soft, affectionate ... everything he never really expected interfacing to be for the subordinate mecha.

A strong hand caressed Jazz's side, teasing seams and dancing along sensor clusters. The smaller mech moaned, shivering with each brush along the sensitive components, pleasure flaring through his field and into Prowl. The kisses along his face continued, drifting up to his visor when the wondering hand slipped inward to tease along Jazz's abdominal plates.

Jazz whimpered and moaned, openly enjoying the touch as he focused his attention once more on the sensor wings. His hands moved, teasing along the edges and then slipping into the joints to expertly stroke along the wires and cables hidden below. 

It caused Prowl's field to roar with pleasure. A gasp escaped him as he found Jazz's mouth once more, his glossa delving between parted lips to stroke and lap at the surfaces inside. Jazz moaned into the contact, his field melding with the Praxian's as his pleasure soared in response to Prowl's as fingers moved to delve into the base joints where sensors and control cables concentrated.

They both nearly whined when Prowl's rapid trail down Jazz's frame made them momentarily lose that contact. Jazz's fingers found their perch about the same time as Prowl's lips found his abdominals and began to trace delicate, erotic patterns in the sensitive metal. Patterns that had the smaller mech pressing into the touch and calling Prowl's designation softly, pleadingly.

He gasped as Prowl's lips continued down until his glossa ghosted over Jazz's spike cover. Teasing, requesting. Jazz shivered as the cover slid away, trusting Prowl and wrapped in the pleasure and shared fields.

Prowl drew his helm back slightly, treasuring the rare sight of a sealed spike housing. It was nearly enough to make him moan as he recorded the sight before lowering his helm to kiss the center of the housing, enjoying the exotic feeling of thin, soft rubber.

That first light touch had Jazz gasping in surprise and squirming, pleasure flaring to push against Prowl.

Prowl smiled and pulled back to slightly to pull a small jar out of his subspace. "This, mixed with oral lubricants, will dissolve the sealant. It may still sting slightly when your spike pushes out, but it shouldn't hurt."

It took a moment for Jazz to focus on Prowl and force his processor to understand what the other mech was saying, then he nodded in acceptance. He shivered and moaned, his hips trying to buck into the contact as Prowl's cream-coated finger made a gentle circle around the outer edge of the seal, only to very slowly spiral inward, spreading the cool cream smoothly around the entire surface.

"What..." the smaller mech stumbled over the words, fingers digging into Prowl's shoulders, "do I do?"

"Relax, enjoy, don't resist any spike commands," Prowl rumbled before lowering his helm once more to trace his glossa along the path his finger had taken.

A shudder ran through Jazz's frame as he attempted to do as Prowl suggested, falling back on the berth and surrendering to the pleasure. No wonder Prowl was so fond of having his spike stimulated. This was beyond intense, and his seal was still in place.

As Prowl's glossa returned to circling the outer rim of the seal, Jazz's HUD popped up a request to extend and pressurize his spike.

The first, almost instinctive response was to deny the request, protocols that he had been ignoring for centuries teasing at the edge of his awareness. Until the next pass of the Praxian's glossa around the edge of the seal sent another surge of pleasure through his frame.

Prowl had said...don't resist. He trusted Prowl.

With that hazy conclusion Jazz approved the request. He felt the tension along the edge of the seal, the sensation of strain just before tearing began.

Then Prowl's mouth enclosed the entire housing, his lips against the rim of the seal and his glossa swirling quickly around the head of Jazz's spike as it began to emerge.

Jazz whimpered and squirmed, visor dim at the odd mixture of pleasure and discomfort coming from his spike, then moaned at the surge of sensation that pulsed through his frame from Prowl's attentions. His fingers spasmed in Prowl's wing joints, causing them to flare and their owner to moan deeply just as Jazz's spike broke free to slide between his lips, taking bits of the seal with it.

Despite Prowl's promise Jazz had been expecting some sort of pain, but all he could focus on when the seal finally gave way was the rush of new sensations from a bit of equipment that only existed to produce pleasure and the now familiar idea of it going into a warm, slick space.

A soft hum vibrated Prowl's throat, mouth, lips and glossa as he took in the rapidly pressurizing spike fully, all the way into his intake. He swallowed around the tip, relishing the unique taste of a spike that had never felt air before.

Jazz moaned and keened as his hips moved, reflexively attempting to thrust into the pleasure around his spike. His lover moved and relaxed into the uncoordinated movement, easily taking it as he worked the virgin spike with intake, mouth and glossa. He soon had Jazz reduced to a helpless pile of pleasure, the smaller mech gasping, keening, and occasionally able to from Prowl's designation around the pleasure that was a mouth on his spike. Skilled fingers delved into Jazz's hip joint, caressing wires and cogs as deep inside while Prowl sucked and swallowed all around the delicious length.

The combination was enough to push Jazz over the edge in his first experience of this pleasure; frame arching off the berth as all traces of conscious control left him. Hot transfluid rushed into Prowl's throat, then mouth as he backed off just enough to get a good taste before diving forward again to bury the pulsing spike deep in his throat and swallowed convulsively around it.

Pride, pleasure, arousal and joy all poured off Prowl in waves, flooding into Jazz like a deep tide. A flood that in the middle of the overload sent the smaller mech into a second one, his vocalizer shorting out from the strain as he keened and lost himself in the swirling tide of pleasure-emotion.

Jazz sank down as the overload faded, his frame going completely lax, beyond spent. He barely managed to retain enough awareness to feel Prowl licking him clean and the intense _pleasure-satisfaction_ radiating from his intended before he sank into oblivious recharge.

Prowl hummed, pleased with the success, even as his systems began to complain of the lack of results for him. With a soft sound of resigned annoyance he looked down at the sated and solidly unconscious mech under him. As satisfying as being the first to bring pleasure to a mecha was, it did have the unpleasant side effect of leaving him with a high charge and no one to finish with more often than not.

His hand, or was this worth going to his quarters?

His valve answered for him. He _wanted_ a thick, hot spike pounding into him, wanted to feel the rush of transfluid.

With fluid grace Prowl stood, gently ensuring that Jazz was tucked away and clean before heading for his side of the suite where his personal slaves lived in attached quarters.

When the door slid closed behind him, Prowl called out for them.

Keenly in tune with their surrounding, the pair appeared as soon as Prowl spoke, moving with silent grace to kneel before their master, optics on the ground as they waited for direction, though they both knew simply from the cant of his wings and the timing what he wanted. One had been a warrior of a House that had been foolish enough to rebel against an edict of the Prime, and mocked the chance they had been given to reform. The other was his bonded, spared as he had been when the House was overturned and razed to the ground.

Prowl had commanded that campaign, his first, and the warrior had caught his optic during the battle. When they had come face-to-face Prowl had been sure the mech would fight to the death, only to have the warrior surrender his weapon when it was clear he had no chance, dropping to his knees in the manner of one begging for his life.

Curious Prowl had sought him out later, lined up among the prisoners as they were being sorted, and found him comforting a smaller mech of much lighter design.

Separated from his mate Surestrike had conducted himself honorably. Answering Prowl's questions and managed to impress the Praxian. A carrying mate was an honorable enough reason to surrender, and Prowl had proposed a deal. His mate would be allowed to carry the spark to term. Upon separation the sparkling would be surrendered to the House, to be raised as a warrior of the House of the Shining Sun. In return for their lives and the life of their sparkling Surestrike and his mate would belong to Prowl, by the Conquerors Laws.

Both had agreed, and though Surestrike had been harder to bring to heel than his peaceful mate, the warrior held his honor dear, and their training had been more teaching than breaking. Though they had little choice in the matter, centuries later they were unquestionably loyal to their master.  
   
Without a word Prowl swept by them, allowing his field to do the talking for him. It was far from an unusual demand as they were his preferred berth warmers when he was not with a more suitable lover. Despite the vast difference in status and legal standing, Prowl trusted them. Not just with not extinguishing him in exhausted recharge, but to tend to the other's charge should he be unable to bring one or both to overload.

The pair rose in unison, following their lord and master in the direction of the berth room, working out between them how best to please Prowl with the ease of mechs long familiar with each other and what was being asked of them. By the time they reached Prowl's large, soft berth Softlight was ready to spread his legs for the Praxian, and Surestrike's spike was pressurizing.

They fell into the familiar dance with ease as Softlight slid onto the berth, displaying himself to appeal to his master. His hands came up as Prowl joined him, hands trained to offer the perfect touch sliding along the Praxian's frame as Softlight nuzzled submissively at his master's neck and chest.

A low moan escaped Prowl, both his covers snapping open. He sank fully into Softlight's valve as soon as his spike pressurized, his own valve slick and ready for Surestrike.

Behind them Surestrike waited until his mate and his master were settled before reaching for the sensor wings on Prowl's back and running his hands down them as he sank his spike into the valve. They had served Prowl long enough to know when the Praxian was not in the mood to draw things out, and this was certainly one of those times.

Prowl's wings flared out, pressing into the touch. Oh, it felt _good_. It felt so good to be between the pair who knew him so well, could read his needs and wants without him saying a single word. For several thrusts he simply relished in the sensations, allowed himself to float in the pleasure, before focusing on sharing the _relief-enjoyment_ with his berthmates while he lasted.

The pair responded instantly, allowing the physical pleasure to slip into the their fields for Prowl to share as their frames moved to give him what he wanted. The hips of the smaller mech beneath him rolled up to meet each thrust and take the spike in deeply as his mate shifted so he could pound unto the Praxian from behind.

As wound up as Jazz had left him, it was over in less than a klik with a roar as Prowl spilled his transfluid into Softlight, his valve quivering and flexing around Surestrike's spike, wanting to feel the pleasure he'd been anticipating ever since Jazz had agreed to having his spike seal broken.

They were signs that the slave mech could read by now as he shifted again, driving his spike into the pulsing valve until he overloaded with a soft sound, transfluid spilling from his spike flood the valve. Prowl's moan and the flare of satisfaction was his reward, along with the knowledge that when Prowl was pleased he was generous.

As Prowl's systems settled, sated enough, he nuzzled the lightly built mech under him. "Would you prefer your mate?"

"My mate, with the lord's permission." Was the answer, quiet but without fear. The pair had learned early on that Prowl preferred truth and would never punish them for speaking such, even if it was not what he wished to hear.

A light nuzzle, a small reward for honesty, and Prowl shifted to get up. Surestrike easily slid out of him and settled on his heals so his master could rise. He waited until Prowl had stood before moving forward to kiss his mate, once more grateful that while Prowl demanded their services in the berth, he was far kinder about it than law or custom demanded of him. 

They would be allowed to tend to each other, to overload, before tending to him in the washrack to remove the evidence of the tryst.

* * *

Jazz came around slowly, stretching and wincing a little at the odd sensation from his spike housing. Sensation that brought back a flood of memories from the night before and left the black and white mech smiling at the cause.

He and Prowl had fought. They had made up. And had learned a great deal about each other in the process.

Purring, Jazz's reached out with his field, and within moments the smile had been replaced with a frown as he found himself alone on the berth. Vision came online to confirm what his frame and field was already telling him, and with a small sound of mixed emotion Jazz rolled from the berth.

The first thing to catch his attention was the fact that the door to his berthroom was open, only heightening his annoyance. If Prowl was going to leave him he could at least have the decency to close it behind him.

Resigning himself to facing another morning alone Jazz stalked out of the room and across his quarters only to freeze in the doorway that led to the common room. Prowl was sitting at the small table to one side of the room, diligently concentrating on the datapads neatly arranged in front of him. A very nice breakfast for two was already spread out and waiting.

All of Jazz's frustration melted away, replaced with resigned affection. Given the joor he should have known that Prowl would already be up and about seeing to matters of the House. It was something that Jazz would not yet admit he tended to find exasperating and endearing in equal measure. Centering himself Jazz slipped quietly across the room, coming around behind his intended to slide gentle hands over the beautiful sensor wings in a soothing manner as he leaned his helm down near Prowl's audio. "Thank you."

Prowl's field reached out to caress him, affection strong in it as he turned his helm to steal a gentle kiss. "You are welcome. I regret not being at your side when you woke. Three joors was simply too long for me to remain still with so much to tend to. I would prefer to spend time together when you are aware."

Jazz nuzzled at the Praxian's cheek before moving away and taking his seat. "What are you working on?" He asked, genuinely interested as he reached for his morning energon and one of the common breakfast confections.

"Cost analysis for several proposed responses to the growing unrest in Kaon, if it escalates to violence." Prowl made a quick copy to a blank datapad and offered it to Jazz without hesitation.

The smaller mech took it, scrolling through it curiously. "The House will be called up if it does?"

The more Jazz looked, the more impressed he was. He knew the House of Shining Sun was a large, prominent, and prosperous one, but to able to field a force like this practically at need ... it was processor stopping.

"Without question," Prowl nodded grimly. "As will I. If Kaon erupts in violence, the Prime will call on me to coordinate the response. I may be gone for several vorns with little potential for you to join me before your training is finished."

Jazz vented softly, not pleased with the prospect but unwilling to start anything unpleasant over an uncertain possibility on the heels of their recent misunderstanding. "Worry about it when it comes, if it does." He answered, setting the pad aside and pushing the plate of confections at his intended, noticing that Prowl had yet to consume anything.

"Agreed," Prowl said smoothly as he selected a crispy, rust-dusted confection with a near liquid center. "You may well have completed training by then. I calculate a 98.7733% probability that I will be called to deal with Kaon in the name of the Prime in the next three centuries. However, there is only a 37.1994% probably that it will happen in the next forty vorns. I do hope it will wait until you are ready to fight and plan at my side."

"That would be preferable." Jazz agreed, shifting the conversation to other topics as they worked their way through breakfast. It was all so ... normal. It felt good too, the amount of faith in him Prowl displayed simply by sharing this information, and doing so in such a casual manner. As breakfast neared an end, Jazz caught the shift in Prowl's frame and field that was usually reserved for after their post-dinner game. Half way out of his seat Jazz froze, gaze locked on his intended as he considered this new event. "Prowl?"

"You missed out on the main event last night," Prowl rumbled, his field reaching out to Jazz to express just how hot he was running for his intended even before he reached out with a hand to caress the side of Jazz's face. "I do not wish to wait any longer to feel you inside me."

Momentary hesitation gave way to willing agreement as Jazz leaned his helm into the touch, field already melding with the other mechs. "All right."

"Good," Prowl's field flared, the intensity of it like nothing Jazz had felt before and leaned in for a kiss as he drew his intended close. "Would you like me to ride your spike, or to mount me?" Prowl asked as he nibbled his way down to Jazz's throat, slowly guiding his intended backwards, towards Jazz's berthroom.

Jazz shivered in his arms, moaning softly as Prowl teased at his neck. "Mm... Which do you like better?"

"I like being mounted. It gives my lover better access to my wings," he was nearly trembling in anticipation. "However, if I ride you, we can kiss and you can lay back and simply enjoy."

Jazz actually hesitated. He loved playing with those wings, loved the intense reactions he could cause when he found the just the right places to make Prowl moan. At the same time he selfishly loved the feel of his intended's lips against his own, teasing his neck and visor and making him moan.

"Ride me?" He asked softly, wanting to feel that and be the center of Prowl's attention for a little bit.

"Yes," Prowl's moan was enticing as Jazz's knees felt the edge of the berth. "Then lay down, my Jazz."

The smaller mech fell back on the berth, unresisting and all of his attention focused on his lover and the promise of pleasure in meshed fields and the brush of heated frames. His optics locked on what was possibly one of his favorite sights; that of his intended lowering himself on top of him.

Lips plates met, parted and glossa stroked each other as Prowl caressed his lover's frame before sliding all the way down abdominal plates to stroke light fingers over Jazz's spike cover.

The cover slid way quickly at the first touch if his fingers, an edge of shyness creeping into Jazz's field as he optics followed his lover's hand to watch his newly unsealed spike emerge and pressurize. It was a little shorter than Prowl's, not nearly as elaborately ridged and with a simple white base with black highlights. Yet it was _his_ , and Prowl seemed to approve of it.

Gentle, strong white fingers caressed the emerging length. As much as Prowl was revved up, as much as he wanted to feel that length inside him, he refused to rush. Jazz moaned, vision flickering at the attention as his hands began to roam his intended's frame, finding the sensor wings just within his reach and caressing them.

It was still a very new feeling for Jazz, any sort of stimulation to his spike, but this time was no less pleasurable than the first. More so now even, that he had some idea of what to expect and wasn't already lost in a flood of new sensations.

"Your pleasure feels so good," Prowl moaned softly, his wings trembling at the attention. Almost reluctantly he withdrew his hand and shifted forward, leaning down to kiss Jazz with a passion far more gentle than he was feeling the desire for. Small pearls of lubricant dripped from Prowl's valve onto Jazz's erect spike, each one sending a shiver through Jazz's frame and field as he moaned softly into the kiss, glossa darting out to tease Prowl's lips, asking.

Prowl's mouth opened fully to his even as he shifted and sank down, taking Jazz's spike slowly into his slick, quivering valve. Giving each of them time to savor and enjoy this first slide. Anything Jazz might have planned to do with that permission was lost to the sensation of the tight heat slowly enveloping his spike. He whimpered as all he could do was feel and marvel.

Prowl's mouth and hand on his spike had been amazing. This was divine, and his field flared against the larger mech, sharing the glory of this first experience. 

Above him Prowl moaned more from the field contact than the stretch of his valve. This was everything he loved about being first. The rush of that first pleasure when they weren't prepared for it. It was intense, addictive, and oh so wonderful.

Slowly he sank down until he felt the rim of the spike housing against his valve platelets, then stilled and rippled the lining of his valve.

Jazz's hands slipped from Prowl's wings to his shoulders, tightening around the sturdy armor as he shuddered and moaned, back arching to thrust his spike into the pleasure on pure reaction. He gasped at the shift in sensation when Prowl leaned forward and slid his legs back, radically changing the angle of penetration.

"Oh _yes_ ," Prowl shuddered and moaned, drinking in Jazz's sensations and reactions as much as the pleasure from his own frame. "Yes," he tightened his valve as he lifted his hips, lowering his helm to claim Jazz's mouth in a passionate kiss. As their lips met Prowl let go of the tight self-control he had to maintain to keep from pushing his intended too hard.

The mech beneath him whimpered into the kiss at the small loss of contact around his spike, wanting to feel more and deeply trusting of the mech over him.

"So perfect," Prowl murmured as he sank down, taking Jazz inside him fully and grinding their interface arrays together before drawing up again.

"Prowl..." Even this short amount of contact was enough to make Jazz shiver and moan, the charge already building hot in his systems.

"Don't fight it," Prowl whispered, kissing him once more as he sped the pace just a bit. "I want to feel you flood my valve. It'll feel so good."

"Feels so good." Was the response between kisses, this angle putting Prowl's wings back into his lovers reach. Jazz's hands slid down the edges as he moaned with each ripple and slide of the valve over his spike.

There was a short warning, and inarticulate sound from Jazz as he pulled his hands from those wings, before his frame stiffened and bucked against Prowl, transfluid filling his intended's valve. It rushed over sensors buried inside crevasses in the valve wall, there explicitly to respond to the hot flood of highly charged thick fluid.

With a cry of ecstasy Prowl took it in, his hips moving quickly as he worked himself the rest of the way and overloaded with a low, booming roar.

He came down to hands stroking gently over his chest, Jazz's visor dim and the smaller mech's field full of sated contentment.

Prowl hummed, his valve randomly rippling around the pressurized spike still deep inside him. Oh, it felt _so_ good. He had no doubt that had he not been as gifted a political and warrior as he was, he would have produced several sparklings already. He was sure his psychology was designed for it. He simply responded to this so well. He loved being filled.

"Good?" Jazz asked, a hint of teasing creeping into his voice and frame as he looked up at his intended, hands still running absently over the polished armor.

"Very," Prowl purred, leaning down to kiss Jazz softly. "I love the feel of hot transfluid inside me." His valve quivered and fluttered at the thought.

The mech beneath him shuddered at the pressure and stimulation on his spike, hips shifting against Prowl's.

"Again?" Prowl moaned, his field flaring brightly even as his frame rolled into the movement, his valve testing the spike inside it for readiness.

"Please?" Jazz asked, the motion of his hands over his intended's frame shifting from friendly attention to arousal. "Know you said you liked something different than this..."

A shiver passed through Prowl's frame as he lifted himself off Jazz to settle on hands and knees next to him, golden optics bright with desire and long sensor wings fully spread and fluttering at him. The wings were enough to distract Jazz for a moment, fixating on them as rolled to his knees and moved around behind Prowl, reaching out to stroke over the wings, purring softly as his frame settled over his intended's.

The heat where their frames came in contact was intense, but it was the continual fluttering of those wings, begging for more attention, that riveted Jazz. The way they moved, felt, the _sounds_ they could so easily draw from Prowl were enchanting.

Curious, Jazz leaned closer, nuzzling where the wings joined Prowl's frame as his hands ran over the familiar expanse. The sound he earned in response had Jazz purring harder, pleased as he continued to stroke and kiss the sensitive appendages.

Continued exploration earned him several new spots to remember before Jazz focused on the other reason he was he was there, shifting to line his spike up with the dripping valve. He had to look and use his hand, but the sensation of the slick valve clenching around his spike as he pressed past the glistening platelets made him forget all about any awkwardness that came with not knowing what he was doing.

He shivered and moaned, sinking slowly into the slick tightness that was his intended's valve, savoring the slide until he was flush against the Praxian's aft and back. He held still there for a lingering moment, taking in the differences in sensation the new position offered. The view was pretty fine too, with the way Prowl trembled and arched into the contact and his wings flared.

"Beautiful." Jazz murmured, speaking without thinking as he pulled back carefully, testing the new position as he started a slow, steady glide in and out of the valve and bracing on Prowl at first. The warrior-Praxian's frame was nothing like the civilians that everyone knew. He was strong, sturdy, well protected ... about all they had in common was the elegant grace the city was renown for.

For perhaps the first time Jazz truly grasped just how well-suited Prowl was for leading an army from the front line. Every upgrade, every design choice in his well-crafted existence, had been with this single purpose in mind.

To lead a Praxian warrior-House was to lead from in front of his forces.

It was something he would think on later, his field stretching out to meld once more with his lover's as he moved, sharing the feel of the valve squeezing and stimulating his spike as he reached up to caress the sensor wings that were still so responsive even on a warrior frame.

Prowl moaned encouragement, his field flaring in reply, entwining tightly with Jazz's to share the intense pleasure he felt at being penetrated, stretched and filled in such an intimate way. His valve pulsed, relishing the sensations being bestowed on his frame and how much his intended was enjoying it. It was everything he wanted in this introduction.

The soft sounds of his lover, grunts and moans as Jazz surrendered to feeling and moving in ways that made them both feel so good, seeking to drive his intended to overload as his hands played along sensor wings and his thrusts picked up speed and strength, driving into the welcoming valve harder.

"So good," Prowl moaned, rocking his hips into each thrust, easily adapting his movements and angle for the best results. It was a skill he'd spent much of his free time developing, how to instruct an inexperienced lover without them realizing they were being instructed.

Through the shared pleasure Jazz's field sang at the praise as he moaned into Prowl's back, frame vibrating with the growing charge. "Good..."

Under him Prowl moaned inarticulately before he finally managed a drawn out 'Jazzzz' so thick with pleasure it was amazing he wasn't trembling. His wings pressed upwards, wiggling for attention.

Attention Jazz attempted to give them as his self control slipped rapidly, destroyed by his growing charge and the encouragement of his lover.

"Prowl-" He shuddered. "Sorry." Then he reached out, fingers sliding into the base of the wing joints to hit the sensor nodes he knew were buried there as he overloaded in his intended's valve for a second time.

"Ohh, no need to apologize," Prowl moaned, his valve working his lover all through Jazz's overload right until he crumbled against the Praxian's back.

It was all Jazz could do to be still and let Prowl support him as his systems worked to cool his frame and he worked to find focus again through the post overload haze.

Finally he moaned softly, his field settling enough for him to pick up just how worked up Prowl still was. Moving carefully Jazz shifted his attention to the sensor wings spread before him, quivering and begging to his stroked. He ran his hands along the length and pausing to tease every joint as he kissed and licked at the base cables.

"Yes!" Prowl's entire frame reacted, arching sharply and quivering in an entirely different way. "Just ... a ... little ... morrrr!" he roared as his optics flashed white and energy raced across his frame, crackling between his chassis, his flared wings and Jazz.

The gentle nip Jazz had delivered last was enough, pushing his intended over the edge as the energy from the Praxian's overload flooded both their frames. Jazz purred at the glorious sight and _sound_ that was his lover lost in pleasure and continued to stroke the sensor wings as he savored the reaction. 

This was easily as rewarding as learning a new kata or earning praise in a sparring match. It was undeniable proof that Jazz was good enough. It was undeniable proof that his intended could, _did_ , desire him as more than a breeder. When he first heard he was to be the subordinate in the pairing he realized it was entirely possible the seal on his spike would never be broken unless he did it himself. A breeder had no need for their spike, only their valve to receive the transfluid that contained spark energy, code and protomass for a forming sparkling to absorb.

Prowl not only was willing to pleasure him in every way, but very clearly got off on it. There was no way Prowl was doing this because he somehow felt he should.

Jazz nuzzled once more at the wings as he felt Prowl come down from the high before he backed away slowly, still shivering a little as his spike slid from the valve and he settled tiredly on the berth behind his intended. 

With a moan and satisfied stretch of his entire frame Prowl shifted to join him. A nuzzle to the cheek became a tender, chaste kiss; an expression of affection rather than a demand for attention. "The rest, and learning all else that interfacing can be, will be just as enjoyable," Prowl promised.

Jazz leaned into him, content to snuggle for the moment. The physical warmth of the frame next to his, and the still blended fields of contentment and affection, was highly addictive. "I look forward to it."

"Good," Prowl smiled and relaxed with him for a couple breems. "If you wish to rest, you do not need to join me on my rounds."

Jazz grumbled a little at the thought of rising again, but there was good-natured humor under his mumbling as he nuzzled at Prowl. "I'll join you."

"As you wish," Prowl kissed him again and reluctantly rose from the berth. "Come to my washrack. My slaves will tend to us both."

Jazz rose with a soft sound of agreement and protest, following Prowl across the mercifully empty suite and into Prowl's side. He couldn't help but look around curiously as he entered. It was more decorative that he'd expected on a level, though it matched the rest of the House in taste and quality. Yet all around were personal touches, items, trophies and mementoes from Prowl's travels and campaigns.

Weapons, shields, several preserved and mounted helms, artwork that wasn't Praxian ... the entry room to Prowl's suite was a showpiece to his career and achievements. It was enough to jar Jazz's self-confidence some. This, more than anything he had encountered so far, demonstrated the gap between him and his intended. Prowl had already accomplished so much on his own merit, and all Jazz had to offer him was some training in the arms and the reputation of his creator. No wonder members of the House were inclined to look down on him and question his worthiness.

"Surestrike, Softlight," Prowl's voice rang out evenly as he crossed the entry room to his berthroom.

Here Jazz was greeted with a very different sight. Here, where Prowl would meditate and recharge, his _personal_ space where only a select few would be granted access, was nearly austere despite the fine crafting to the textures and multitude of colors on the walls and the few pieces of furniture. It was not unlike Prowl's own frame.

The pair appeared instantly, looking Prowl over and immediately surmising what needed to happen. The only hesitation was when two pairs of curious, submissive optics studied Jazz before turning back to their master to bow and hurry to prepare the grand washrack room.

Jazz followed his intended into a third radically different room. The washrack was a glittering masterpiece, larger than the berthroom by half, with shimmering tiles and lighting that could change from perfect white to check one's finish to a rainbow that refracted and reflected off more surface types than Jazz could name. It was far finer than anything Jazz had encountered before in the form of a washrack, even those of his creator's bonded. Curious optics glanced over at his intended, wondering a little at what was almost something out of place with what he had learned of the Praxian.

He would have stayed there if not for the soft, respectful voice at his back. "If my lord would come this way?"

Jazz tilted his helm to look at the small, pale orange and yellow mech before stepping obediently in the indicated direction. Servants and slaves at least he was something he was familiar with. Though the pair were stepping carefully around him they really had little to fear. Respectful treatment of the help, free or not, was one of the rules he had been given that he had no qualms about.

He watched the other one, a larger, heavier non-Praxian mech with armor of blue and black, as Prowl was guided under the shower next to Jazz. It was a space that easily held the four of them and more to spare. It was interesting, feeling Prowl's field here. His intended was relaxed and it abruptly occurred to Jazz that this room was Prowl's great indulgence. This was what he treated himself to with all his power and wealth.

A low, throaty sound escaped Prowl as Surestrike went to work on his plating, tackling the large surface areas first with a speed that betrayed just how familiar he was with his master's frame. Initial trace was lifted off in the span of a klik before the mech settled into a slower pace, focusing more on what he was doing as he began to clean Prowl thoroughly from helm to pede.

The first glide of brush over armor had Jazz shivering and his attendant hesitating until Jazz moved more in his reach, offering his frame for cleaning as Jazz relaxed his field. Softlight moved slower than his mate from the beginning, paying special attention to Jazz's frame type and design and making careful notes of Jazz's personal peculiarities about being cleaned.

Anything that tickled or made Jazz twitched as noted and remembered, just as were the things that made him sigh in pleasure or press further into the touch.

It wasn't long before Jazz had effectively melted into the touch, helped along by Prowl's enjoyment so close by and how clear it was that the Praxian trusted these mechs tending to them.

It did feel very good. Different from Evening Bronze too. Her efforts were precise and professional. This pair's touch was warmer, willing to be affectionate and personally devoted.

It was just another thing Jazz was rather sure he could very used to very easily.


	6. Hunting

Jazz sighed, looking out across the main courtyard of the compound. Since their fight and making up, Jazz had devoted a lot of time and effort to learning of Prowl's duties and responsibilities, and as much time as possible to getting to know Prowl personally. While he had plenty to distract himself with, the small mech had been accustomed to roaming as he pleased, and being confined to the House compound, as large as it was, was starting to wear on him after two full metacycles.

The light touch of the only mecha here that could walk up on him without being noticed didn't startle him, but drew him to lean back against his intended's chest.

"You are unhappy," Prowl murmured, drawing Jazz even closer.

"Not unhappy." Jazz was quick to reassure him, leaning into Prowl and the familiar comfort. "Just..." He let his field spread out, brushing against Prowl's.

Restless. Bored with being trapped inside. A little homesick for parts of his old life.

"We can visit the city, or go hunting," Prowl offered.

There was a surge of hopeful excitement through the touching fields as Jazz titled his helm to look up at his intended, visor bright. "Anything to get _out_ would be nice."

"Our House owns an estate of wild lands," Prowl smiled gently. "While we would be required to have guards for the drive there, once on the hunting grounds we can be by ourselves."

"I don't kill for sport." Jazz informed him quietly. "The monks frowned on that."

"We can use stun bolts," Prowl suggested.

Jazz shifted in his arms, field picking back up again. "That could be fun." He agreed, the prospect looking better the longer he thought about it.

While he really did want to see more of the province's capitol before he was bonded and confined to the compound for several vorns, the possibility of being out in the wildlands again was tempting.

"I will make the arrangements, then," Prowl leaned in for a chaste kiss. "It will be a few orns before we leave. I may have a great deal of freedom, but my duties can not be ignored."

"Of course not." Jazz agreed, lips meeting Prowl's again in another kiss, content with the promise of being able to get out and the ease of which it had been offered. After two metacycles he _knew_ , intimately, how to read Prowl's willingness. With this, his intended was quite willing, both to the trip and the no-kill concession.

* * *

* * *

* * *

The drive had been quiet, Prowl's natural inclination towards not talking unless he had something relevant to say leaving Jazz to take in the surroundings they traveled through and the manners of their escorts. At least to Jazz, it seemed that while they were alert and took their duties seriously, they did not regard Prowl as someone who particularly needed protection.

He was also grateful for the fact that while they were clearly protecting him, they were not crowding and smothering him like he was a helpless sparkling either.

He had plenty of time to observe on the trip, feeling the life of the city give way to the life of the countryside, a difference that relaxed Jazz and excited him at the same time. This was something he was familiar with, an environment that he could handle and where he was in his element.

It felt _so_ good.

Prowl's field reached out to caress his, affection and pleasure mingled in it. He had spent enough time out here when he was younger to feel at home in the wildlands as well, though he'd had few opportunities since his first campaign and proving he was worthy of bearing the title of Lord of the Shining Sun.

The local land was proving to be somewhat different than where he had grown up, Jazz noted as they traveled, his field still lightly joined with Prowl to share affection and pleasure they were both feeling at being out and about and moving. Simfur was a landscape broken by mountains, ridges, and canyons with crysto-metallic foliage that reflected the environment. The towering foliage and open expanses of wildlands surrounding Praxus and its outlying territory was new enough to be fascinating.

But the closer Jazz looked the more confident he grew that he would be able to handle this without any problems, and maybe in impress his intended a little in the process. That would feel very good, to be able to do something _valuable_ to Prowl that was outside the reason he had been betrothed to Prowl. At least he hoped Prowl would find it valuable. It was difficult to tell, even after studying the Praxian intensely for two metacycles.

They cruised around a bend and the carefully guarded wildlands and the view opened to a wonderfully wild crystal garden with carefully maintained paths surrounding a delightfully small lodge the House of the Shinning Sun maintained for their hunting trips.

Jazz transformed as soon as they stopped, interest captured by the garden that was sculpted and maintained to look like it belonged here. To someone who knew as much as he did there was no way something like it would exist untended, but whoever had created it had put a great deal effort into making it a part of its surroundings and not an invader.

He was impressed, and nodded in appreciation as he turned his attention back to his intended and their escort.

Prowl smiled and offered his arm. "We maintain only a very small staff here. It is likely to be much more like the conditions you grew up with than what you have become accustomed to."

Jazz smiled a little. In truth, he _still_ wasn't used to the way things were in the House of Shining Sun. His creator's House had always been busy, and for the most part if there wasn't someone available to do it for you when you wanted it done, you learned to do it yourself. He was still adjusting to Bronze Evening, and he still hadn't quite come to terms with the idea that if he _wanted_ to he could probably spend entire orns not lifting a finger for himself. He'd gotten the distinct impression that his intended approved of his independence and ability to take care of himself without complaint.

"I think I'll manage," Jazz smiled as they walked and he took in the garden from the inside, their guards and Prowl's two slaves following quietly.

"I am sure you will," Prowl actually purred slightly, the flash of approval strong in his field. "I have cleared a full six orns for our stay, including at least three orns in the field."

The mech on his arm twitched in surprise, visor flashing as he looked over at Prowl.

At most Jazz had been hoping that Prowl would be able to get away for a couple of orns. That his intended had arranged to be away for so long almost had him worried that there was something wrong.

"We can return earlier if you wish," Prowl offered uneasily. "You seemed so eager to be away from the compound."

"No." Jazz's field brushed against his, rich with how excited and pleased Jazz was. "I didn't think you would be able to get away so long, with your duties."

"Ah," Prowl relaxed visibly as the main door opened for them onto a grand entry way by Jazz's standards, though he could see how modest and rustic it was by Shining Sun standards. "I am stubborn and I bore easily. I did not wish to interrupt my duties any more than needed for our courting. It has been selfish of me not to adjust my schedule more to accommodate your arrival. I did not wish you to become accustomed to having my full attentions when I would not be able to maintain it long past our bonding period. However, it is not uncommon for me to be away for a decaorn or more on business with the Prime, to other cities or to hunt."

Neither of the traits Prowl used to describe himself surprised Jazz. They were things he had seen in his intended for himself. And in all honesty, the changes that Prowl had made to accommodate him had been far more than he had expected when he had learned that he was to be the first bonded of a House Heir. 

"I am glad you did not." He admitted. "Perhaps in the future I will be able to accompany you when you travel." If he could prove his presence a benefit.

"I have little doubt you will," Prowl said smoothly as he guided Jazz up the central staircase to the living quarters on the second floor. The largest of the nine suites, the central one, was what Prowl claimed for them. "After our first is old enough I am sure you will travel with me more often than not."

It was something of a relief to Prowl that Jazz no longer flinched in frame or field when there was mention of the creation that was soon expected of them. While the younger was still not excited by the prospect, he at least no longer seemed to dread the idea.

Jazz looked around the suite, noting how it fit in the with the rest of the decor, reflecting the House and not really any one personal taste, since the lodge was shared among the family. "I look forward to it."

"Would you care to rest before we refuel?" Prowl offered.

"If you wish to." Jazz responded easily, more than happy to spend time with Prowl. The trip hadn't really taken that much out of him, and his natural curiosity had him wanting to explore the rest of the lodge and possibly the surrounding gardens.

"I do, though you are welcome to explore the formal grounds as you please," Prowl leaned over to kiss him lightly. "They are considered as safe as the compound in Praxus."

Jazz leaned into the kiss, purring softly. "Than we can rest, and you can show them to me later."

Prowl hummed softly with contentment and drew Jazz to the large, soft berth. Despite the affection in Prowl's field, there was no missing that he truly wished to recharge. There was a tired edge to the Praxian that was rare, even when he was ready to collapse.

Jazz waited as Prowl settled before snuggling against the larger frame in a pattern that was warm and familiar to them both after more than a metacycle of sharing a berth. His hands roved lightly over his intended's frame, touches that were soothing and relaxing and a little concerned.

"There is nothing to be concerned about," Prowl stroked Jazz's back absently. "I am merely accustomed to recharging a great deal while on vacation."

Jazz hummed in understanding, changing the pressure of his strokes to the intensity that seemed to relax his intended the most. If Prowl wished to recharge Jazz was certainly willing to help him reach that state.

* * *

It felt _good_.

Amazing. Fantastic. Jazz hadn't felt like since he had arrived in Praxus. And he reveled in it as he followed his intended through the wilderness, slipping along silently behind the Praxian frame as they set out for their first day of hunting.

Already Jazz could feel himself sinking into the familiar state of being aware of everything that was around without consciously thinking about it. It also gave him a greater appreciation for his intended's designation.

 _Prowl_.

The mech was called that for good reason. He was utterly silent. His systems. His pedefalls. The way he held himself so no armor rubbed.

What he wasn't, was in love with the wildlands. He moved smoothly enough, but he was tense too.

Jazz slipped closer, field brushing against Prowl's, offering how wonderful this felt to Jazz and wondering a little at his intended's state of tension.

Reassurance slid back before an ultra-short range comm opened. ::Hunting is not a safe activity. Neither are wildlands.::

Jazz had to think about that, slightly baffled. He understood what Prowl was saying- his teachers had instilled in him a great respect for the wildlands and the creatures that roamed them. They had taught him understand them, to survive, and to love them.

::Has something happened before?::

::There is only a 16.1839% probability that a noble will not be extinguished while hunting in any given vorn.::

The smaller mech wasn't sure how to respond to that, and tilted his helm to focus on his intended for a few strides, working through this side of Prowl. ::So why do you do it?::

Sensor wings flared silently but to their full span and extension as Prowl froze, his full focus on whatever he had sensed. Abruptly he relaxed into his prior state of awareness. ::It is an effective way to keep my senses and skill sharp when we are not on campaign. Praxus does not produce enough criminals sentenced to a long deactivation to hunt them often enough.::

Jazz had to concede that point. He had done some homework on the province of his new House, and Praxus was very stable and safe compared to others. ::But you don't enjoy being out here.:: He finally concluded.

::I have never had a reason to enjoy it,:: Prowl shrugged a wing. ::Most of the time I'm in wildlands I'm on campaign. The rest is hunting. Neither are what I consider relaxing.::

::You've never gone out in them just to look around? To walk?:: Jazz was having a hard time comprehending that.

Prowl spared him an unreadable glance. ::I do not have that kind of free time. Everything must serve a function.::

Jazz heaved an internal sigh and let the subject drop in favor of something more concrete. ::So what are we hunting?::

::Razor boar,:: Prowl supplied. ::Though there are many other options if you prefer.::

Jazz's field flickered. He had hunted boar before, when there had been some doing damage to structures in some of the smaller settlements and threatening the inhabitants. It was one of the few times that Jazz had hunted to deactivate without any reservations. He could still clearly remember the torn and battered frames of the mecha who had been attacked, one barely more than a youngling that had only survived because he had managed to make it up a sturdy tree. His brother had not been so lucky.

It also explained why Prowl had said they would want to carry real weapons as backup this orn.

::Are you having problems with one?::

::Not that I'm aware of,:: Prowl answered. ::I believed you would enjoy the challenge.::

Jazz's field flickered with agreement and a touch of pride, his systems settling and his focus sharpening now that he knew what they were looking for. Senses starting looking for signs of their quarry as he fell into stride.

Prowl's field caressed his in pleasure at calculating his intended's desires correctly. Then he too focused on the hunt.

* * *

Jazz stopped when Prowl did, scanning the area around them carefully. Darkness was falling, and under the cover of the tall, study, old-growth dark crystal trees it was growing dim quickly, signaling the end of the orn and their hunting time.

They had found signs of their quarry, but the freshest of them had been an orn old. Still, it meant that there were some in the area, and the next sunrise might bring them better luck.

Without a sound Prowl settled with his back against one of the huge crystal trunks and pulled out two cubes, offering one to Jazz.

The smaller mech took it with a nod of thanks, settling down to consume the energon that he actually needed this time. He had almost forgotten how much more fuel being on the move with heightened senses all orn like this consumed.

It had been a very different orn. He had spent every bit of it with Prowl, _working_ , and not a sound passed between them. Even their comms had been largely silent.

He'd learned two important things about Prowl. First, his intended was _intense_ when he was on a mission, and second, while Prowl knew what he was doing, tracking was something Jazz was actually better at. It was a small source of comfort and pride to have found something that he was better at than his intended. It had been ever better because as soon as Prowl had realized that Jazz was better he started trusting and relying on the smaller mech.

Jazz finished his energon and settled into an easy but alert crouch, waiting for Prowl to finish his as well.

"We should be able to find it tomorrow," Prowl said quietly, finishing his cube and dispersing it in a smooth motion. "I brought a hammock for us both."

"Hammock?" Jazz repeated softly. "That will be something new."

Prowl cocked his helm slightly. "What did you typically recharge on?"

"A tree." Jazz explained with a small shrug. "Find one that has a nice place to brace yourself and recharge. Got caught having to spend the night on the ground a couple of times, and that is a entirely different game."

Prowl nodded, the cant of his wings relaxing slightly. "I've had my fill of recharging without wing support on campaign. I don't believe in bringing the luxuries of home out here, but a hammock is light, quick and makes it much more pleasant for my frametype."

There was a great deal of logic behind that, especially since Jazz was intimately aware of his just how sensitive a Praxian's sensor wings were. The smaller mech glanced up, taking in the tree that Prowl was leaning against. "Using that one?"

"It is a good choice," Prowl inclined his helm slightly. "It is well suited to support both of us in the hammock ... and several branches are wide enough for other activities," he purred softly.

There was an answering caress from Jazz's field, warm and playful, before he was up the tree to have a better look. Prowl was up in an agile set of leaps, following a slightly different path before coming to a stop on a ledge and sliding his hands along Jazz's sides with a kiss to the back of his neck.

The small mech quivered at the touch and moaned, arching to press his frame into Prowl's hands. "Should we get your hammock set up first?"

"Mmm, there is no need," Prowl rumbled, revving his powerful engine to vibrate their frames. "I can set it up in my recharge if need be."

The vibrations had his intended melting back against him, willing for whatever Prowl was proposing as he turned his head for a kiss that was willingly granted. Strong white hands continued to stroke and excite circuitry along Jazz's sides before moving in to tease his abdominals.

"Perhaps you are ready to spike me from behind?" Prowl purred deeply.

Jazz's engine rumbled softly in agreement, his spike cover sliding away. It wasn't his favorite activity, but he'd do it any time just for the access it gave him to those lovely sensor wings and the pleasure that it brought his intended. It wasn't as if it was _bad_ , there were just other paths to overload that he liked so much better ... though with two seals still intact, he was always willing to admit that his opinion could change.

Strong white fingers teased Jazz's spike housing, ghosting around the rim to set off the sensors there and causing the smaller mech to moan and shudder as his spike pressurized into the touch.

"You are beautiful in pleasure," Prowl whispered against an audial horn before taking it into his mouth to lavish it with attention while his fingers stroked the pressurizing spike slowly, drawing out the foreplay until Jazz was in that unique state of melted against him and all but vibrating with need.

"Thought you wanted me to do something..." Jazz groaned softly, the level of pleasure in his field suggesting that if Prowl continued in his attentions much longer his lover was going to overload without him.

"I do," he purred, relinquishing his hold on both sensor horn and spike, only to kiss Jazz's neck and slide his hands up Jazz's sides before stepping back and settling on his hands and knees, his sensor wings spread and angled backwards and slick valve bared.

It took his lover a moment to focus enough to regain control of his frame before rising and settling behind the Praxian, taking in the handsome frame. With a purr that vibrated through his entire frame he slid up against the larger mech, hands running slowly over the wings angled for his attention, teasing pleasure from them first and reveling in the deep, core-deep vibrations he garnered.

"Please," Prowl moaned, his frame trembling and pressing into the contact even as he desperately wanted more.

As much as he loved to draw the pleasure out, teasing his lover until the other mech was right on the edge, Prowl had been one step ahead of him tonight, pushing Jazz first so the smaller mech would be too wound up to hold out for long.

With a moan of agreement one of Jazz's hands abandoned the wing it was teasing to slide over the rim of the valve, feeling the wetness and heat from it as his fingers slipped inside. The ready response he received was all he needed to reach down and slowly guide his spike into the wonderfully welcoming valve with a moan that Prowl echoed.

"Yes," Prowl nearly hissed in the glorious sensation of being filled. Sensor nodes deep inside him lit up, sending jolts of tingling pleasure into him as they were pressed and rubbed against.

Once he was fully seated Jazz stopped for a moment, finding the balance and traction he needed in the unfamiliar environment and taking a moment to lavish attention on the sensor wings spread temptingly before him. Prowl moaned, trembling and pressing his wings into the attendant hands with an abandon that was as clear as his field just how little work Jazz had left to push him over the edge.

Satisfied, and already venting hard from the feel of the valve rippling around his spike Jazz drew back and thrust in, forcing himself to find some control as he found an angle and a rhythm that made Prowl keen in bliss and lash out through his field with all the pleasure charging his systems, sharing the glory of being filled with a mech that had not yet experienced it.

The rush of pleasure shattered what slivers of control Jazz had left, the smaller mech grabbing Prowl's hips and managing a few final thrusts before overloading forcefully in the Praxian's valve. That pounding stream of hot, charge-heavy transfluid was all it took to cause Prowl to bellow, rattling the crystals all around and startling wildlife into the air or bolting for cover. His valve contracted tightly, milking Jazz for all he was worth and flooding as much pleasure into their fields as his lover.

Jazz collapsed onto his lover, spent and sated and so terribly pleased with what he was getting from Prowl. With a smile he indulged in one of his personal pleasures, nuzzling and stroking at the beautiful sensor wings still in his reach. They quivered and drew a deep, resonant moan from Prowl that was full of pleasure and desire.

"Feel good?" Jazz teased softly, focusing his attention on all of the little things he knew drove Prowl wild- the concentrated sensor bundles at the base of the wings, the even pressure of his palms along the flat expanses, his slender fingers slipping into the fine joints.

"Yessss," Prowl hissed, his frame shivering with a building charge. So close on the heels of his last one it would take half a breem ... if he kept himself from working the spike still inside him.

"So much fun..." Jazz purred, teasing the edges of the wings now. As good as his own pleasure felt, the way Prowl allowed him to give, to focus completely on his intended, was at least as good. He knew, after two metacycles of careful observation that for Prowl to allow this was not just an act of trust in Jazz, but a gift to him as well. They had that desire to give pleasure in common.

Jazz purred softly, nuzzling and stroking the wings, pleased with how they twitched and moved under his hands. "Love it when you let go." He murmured. A rush of affection poured from Prowl's field to mix with the pleasure there.

"Such a quick study," Prowl moaned, his processors already half scrambled between the first overload and the building pleasure from his wings.

"Thank you." Jazz purred, hands gliding along the wings stimulate more sensor nodes as he shifted his attention to licking and mouthing the housing and cables, wanting to feel his intended lose control from the pleasure. Of all he'd been shown, this, the pleasure from touch, was the most intimate. It required _knowing_ your lover to do it well.

Prowl gave no doubts as to whether or not what Jazz did was working.

And oh, but stroking those wings always worked.

Prowl's valve began to ripple and squeeze as the charge built in his frame. A shiver ran through Jazz's frame as his spike was stimulated once more, and a small moan escaped him before he focused his attention once more, determined to bring the mech under him to overload again, sensing the slowly building charge and fanning the flame with each touch and stroke.

White fingers clawed into the crystal they were kneeling on as Prowl gave in and allowed his frame to do as it pleased. He rocked back, rubbing their interface arrays together, squeezed and rippled his valve around the spike inside him and gave his wings full range to press and silently guide the touch that was blanking his processors to everything but the intense sensations Jazz was creating in him.

Pleasure that was returned to him as Jazz savored every sensation that Prowl shared with him, fingers and glossa seeking to find that final tipping point that would push Prowl over the edge. His lover was close, so very deliciously close.

With almost no warning Prowl keened sharply as every cable in his frame tightened. Electricity crackled across his frame, between his wings, and into Jazz. The surge was enough to send Jazz into a milder overload of his own, though the small shivers of pleasure running through his frame were almost as much from bringing his lover pleasure as from what was originating in him.

He rode out his lover's overload, sharing it with Prowl until he could feel the Praxian starting to relax. Only then did he pull back, spike slipping free as he gave his intended a little room to crumple forward. Prowl's armor pinging as it cooled, the gaps and vents pumping out thick steaming and trying to suck in cool evening air.

Jazz settled near him, still gently stroking whichever part of his intended was in reach, happy to just be touching the other mech as his own systems settled and cooled.

* * *

It had been a long orn, the creature they were after proving elusive even to Jazz's tracking skills and Prowl's power of predicting, until they had finally cornered it late in the evening. It had been a close thing, cornering the enraged razor boar that late in the orn, but as he looked at the impressive creature, stunned into oblivion, Jazz couldn't help but feel a surge of pride.

He and Prowl had taken it down. Together. Working as a team, and an effective one.

"Are you injured?" Prowl's first words spoke of his priorities.

"No." Jazz replied, giving himself a quick check to make sure. Dirty, scuffed, and dented, but he had walked away from training sessions with Master Ziariace worse off than he was now. "You?"

He turned to study his intended, sharp gaze sweeping over the others frame for any sign of injury. Dirty, scuffed, dented ... and with a long but shallow gash down his left leg. It had already stopped bleeding, but there was no doubt that some of the liquid splattered around them was Prowl's energon.

"Nothing serious," Prowl canted his wings in reassurance having noted where Jazz was looking. "I have taken far worse damage in training. We fight well together."

Jazz hummed softly in agreement, of the personal opinion that they worked rather well together. He glanced at the boar, trying to pinpoint the time in the hunt where it might have gotten close enough to manage to strike Prowl. While he couldn't pick out the moment, going back he realized it was before they finally cornered it ... in the first confrontation more than three joors earlier.

"You are thinking too hard," Prowl murmured, brushing a gentle hand over a sensor horn. "It was a good hunt, we worked well together and we did not have to kill it."

And that in itself was an impressive feat, given the nature of their quarry. It was not often that a full razor boar could be taken down successfully with stun guns. Most of the time when the creatures were hunted it was with high powered short range rifles, and certainly not by a single pair of mecha.

Still, Jazz wasn't going to argue with his intended as he relaxed into the touch on his sensor horn, guaranteed to calm him every time.

With a soft smile Prowl used his free arm to draw Jazz closer and study their prize. "What do you wish to do with it, now that we have it still functional?"

Jazz leaned into his intended, studying the large boar. "We always let everything go at the end of the day, the few times that I hunted for sport. When we were hunting to kill it was often displayed wherever it had been causing trouble."

"What do you wish to do with it?" Jazz asked softly, nuzzling at Prowl.

"There is a collection in Praxus, open to the public, where all sorts of mecha-animals are kept alive, safe and well-fed," Prowl began, keeping a careful watch on Jazz's reaction. "It would assist your reputation to donate the boar to the collection."

The mech against his side remained at ease. "As long as it is well contained as well I have no objections, if they don't already have one."

Prowl hummed and pinged the curator's comm. After a short exchange he closed the line and chuckled. "They'd be delighted to have it, and it will be well-contained. We haven't had a large mecha-animal escape yet."

"Are they going to transport it, or do we have to figure out a way to get it to them?" Jazz asked, trying to estimate how long the creature might be unresponsive.

"We will to the lodge, where they will pick it up," Prowl nuzzled him before letting go and opening a small panel on the boar's throat, right where it met the lower jaw. "Their mecha-animal medic told me how to put it into medical stasis. It should remain safe to handle until it reaches the zoo."

"Should get moving then." Jazz commented absently, checking the time and their remaining light. The chase today had led them even farther from the lodge, and the terrain they had covered had been difficult to traverse in some spots. "I would assume there is a more direct route back to the lodge than the path we followed this orn?"

Even as he said it Jazz knew it would be nearly impossible for just the two of them to move such a large mecha-animal such a distance.

"There is, though it will be far simpler to call one of the fliers in from Praxus to move it," Prowl stood and pulled Jazz close for a kiss, running his hands down Jazz's sides. "Let's get it close to one of these crystals and settle for the night. It can be picked up in the morning."

Jazz purred, returning the kiss before pulling back. "If you want help moving that you might want to stop."

The brush of his field against Prowl's, as playful as the smile on his face, suggested that he had no objection to Prowl starting up again once they were settled.

A deep rumble promised that starting up again was the least that was going to happen as Prowl set his larger frame to work helping move the large beast, a mass greater than both of theirs combined, to a relatively safe place for the night. As soon as it was settled Jazz found himself pressed up against the trunk with Prowl's mouth against his and the Praxian's field almost scalding hot.

When the kiss finally broke the Jazz's entire frame was shaking from the intensity, his cooling system already trying to keep up with the heat flaring between them. With a growl of desire Prowl kissed, nipped and licked his way along Jazz's jaw, down his throat and along the seam of his chest.

Jazz was keening softly, shivering at each touch. "Prowl..." he gasped as his intended worked lower until the Praxian was kneeling in front of him, lips and glossa creeping along the joint of one leg.

Jazz moaned, visor flickering until he focused enough to reach out and stroke along the wings that were now in his reach, touch light and teasing through the haze of pleasure. His hands froze as a powerful jolt of pleasure crashed through his systems when Prowl's lips and glossa found his valve cover, kissing and lapping at the sensitive surface. There was only a moment of hesitation as Jazz navigated the pleasure before the cover slid away, baring the sensitive components still protected by their seal.

Between his spread legs Prowl trembled, breathing in the unique and too-temporary scent of a heated valve seal with lubricant building up behind it. With a gentle kiss, Prowl slipped his glossa out to caress the membrane, then out around the rim where the sensor-heavy platelets were still covered by the flexible seal.

Jazz moaned and keened as untouched sensors fired for the first time, squirming at the pressure starting to build in his lower frame.

"Don't fight it," Prowl hummed against the membrane, his strong hands supporting Jazz's lower frame at the hips.

"Don't fight-." The rest of Jazz's words were lost in a surprised keen of bliss.

Prowl smiled and hummed again. He couldn't prevent his spike from sliding free and pressurizing, but he could keep himself from sinking into his mate for the moment. The mech in his hold was squirming and keening softly, his field alive with the pleasure coursing through his frame, all from what Prowl was doing.

It was all Prowl hoped it to be and more. Jazz was so responsive, it would be _good_ , and easy, to teach him to enjoy being penetrated greatly.

Hands descended on the Praxian's sensor wings again as Jazz started to tease and stroke the edges. Prowl hummed deeply in pleasure, his glossa working the rim and sealed-in platelets relentlessly. The charge was building in the mech under his touch, burning hotter through every point of connection and flaring in meshed fields until Jazz's frame stiffened in his hands and the smaller mech howled in overload.

With the speed of significant practice Prowl stood, driving his spike fully into his intended just as Jazz's charge reached its peak. The seal tore and shredded at his assault, giving Prowl that nanoklik of pressure against his spike tip that was like nothing else in his experience. He pinned Jazz to the crystalline trunk with his frame, holding still with his hands supporting Jazz's hips and his spike twitching and pulsing with the intense pleasure of being surrounded by an overloading valve.

Surprise flickered in Jazz's field as the pleasure began to ebb, twinges of pain from the broken seal and the discomfort as his valve was stretched and filled for the first time, muted by aftershocks from his overload still rippling through his frame. Hungry lips closed on his as Prowl's hips began to move in a slow, controlled glide, drawing his spike across previously untouched nodes along Jazz's entire valve and out between the soft platelets that were just as sensor rich.

Small moans escaped Jazz as the discomfort faded away and his valve began to respond, rippling and tightening with limited coordination in response to the stimulation and the smaller mech grabbed on to Prowl frame.

"So tight," Prowl moaned, trembling as he slid back in. "Primus, you feel good."

There were no coherent words, only the flare of Jazz's field as his valve was stimulated once more and the added pleasure of Prowl's approval. Any ache or pain was lost to the swell of pleasure in Prowl's slow, purposeful slide and the intense pleasure he was giving his intended.

The smaller mech was soon lost in the sensations coursing through his frame, moaning and keening as he experienced this new kind of pleasure. Systems heated faster than they could cool, caressing Prowl as his lover's field warned the Praxian of how close his mate was to losing control of his frame for the second time that night.

"Yessss," Prowl hissed before surrendering to the intense charge centered on his spike. With a roar his hips jerked upward, flooding the virgin valve with hot transfluid rich with the electrical charge of Prowl's overload.

Balanced as precariously on the edge as he was, the combined pleasure that struck him shoved Jazz the rest of the way. The high keen of pleasured bliss gave way to silences as the smaller mech's processor whited out from the intensity. Energy crackled over the bucking frame before releasing it to fall limp against Prowl.

"So perfect," Prowl murmured, supporting the limp form of his intended. Slowly, he withdrew his spike and eased to the ground to hold Jazz in his lap and close against his chassis. Jazz came around slowly, taking his time to _feel_ everything as he snuggled against Prowl. His systems purred softly at the compliment, field revealing just how much it meant to him.

"Feel ready to move, or should I set up the hammock while you finish recovering?" Prowl asked softly, his field warm and protective around the other black and white.

Jazz grumbled softly, not _wanting_ to move but understanding the need to be up where it was safe.

"Hammock." He said, forcing his frame to move and attempting to cover the lingering discomfort. "I'll be up in a klik."

Because once they got the hammock up and settled the close quarters would have him right back in his intended's arms and surrounded by that wonderful, warm field.

"The discomfort will pass soon," Prowl promised with a kiss as he helped Jazz move, then settle next to their prize. "You weren't damaged."

"I know. I was warned." Jazz assured him, stealing a quick kiss before Prowl moved away.

The medic who had performed the inspection so that the matchmaker could honestly present his profile listing him as untouched had been very blunt about what Jazz might expect when his seals were taken.

So far neither of the warnings had proven entirely true.

It spoke volumes for Prowl's skill and desires.

He watched as his intended gracefully and quickly scaled the large trunk to the first set of branches thick enough to easily support them and high enough to be safe in the odd chance something big came looking for a meal ... or their catch worked out of stasis. Despite the low energy level Prowl must have, he moved with quick efficiency to set of their simple camp.

Jazz allowed his systems to finished reorienting and rallying his strength, taking advantage of the time to admire his intended's skill and grace.

Prowl had most of the work done before Jazz began his ascent. He was finished and settled in the hammock, his arms open and golden optics watching Jazz by the time the younger mech joined him.

Jazz slipped into the hammock, quickly finding himself snug against Prowl's frame with a tired but sincere sigh of contentment as he nuzzled at Prowl. A gentle, chaste kiss and few strokes along their frames was all it took for the couple to settle in for recharge, content with the orn.

* * *

Jazz settled quietly at the table, field brushing against Prowl's in greeting. The companionable silence continued as Jazz served himself breakfast from the selection laid out on the table. Then his attention settled on his intended, studying the other mech for a klik before asking, "Did you have plans for the orn?"

"Nothing specific," Prowl admitted with a small smile between sips of a high quality but simple mid-grade more suited to his orns on campaign than somewhere he could have anything he wished. "We have enough time for another hunt for easier game, or we can enjoy the relative quiet of the lodge."

Jazz toyed with an energon solid for a moment before answering. "I was wondering if you might to go for a walk. With me."

"Of course," Prowl's smile was honest, as was the brush of his field. "I would enjoy that."

The faint tension left Jazz as his request was met with agreement and approval. "After breakfast?"

An elegant nod was Prowl's answer. "Was there a place you wished to go?"

"Not particularly. Just off the lodge grounds." Jazz admitted.

"Easily done," Prowl agreed smoothly. "There are some lovely places to visit within a few joors easy walk."

Jazz hummed, field eager where it touched Prowl's as he finished off the rest of his morning meal. It went quickly, both of them looking forward to the walk. By the time they left the front door, Jazz was tucked against Prowl's side, a long sensor wing gliding lightly against his back.

It was an easy walk, neither in any real hurry as they passed through the tended gardens that surrounded the lodge, and the border area where wild and garden met and mixed, and finally into the wild shaped by the rhythm of life and the hand of no mech.

It was here that Jazz truly relaxed. He was still on alert, in tune with everything around him from the sounds of the wild to the shifting breeze to the field of the mech next to him. What was missing was the underlying tension that was almost a permanent part of the younger mech, the fear and resentment of being constantly judged and criticized melting away.

"Were you typically that stressed before you came to Praxus?" Prowl asked.

"What?" Jazz asked, attention focusing on his intended as he was distracted from his own thoughts.

"You are relaxed now on a level that not even a good overload brings you," Prowl explained. "I wondered what the cause is."

Jazz had to think about it for a long time before he settled on an answer. "This is...safe."

His optics scanned the surrounding wildland. "At home, the wildlands were one of the few places I could go and escape. In the House... my every move was known and reported. If I ventured to any of the local towns, she knew everything that I did and everyone I spoke too. And there was always _something_ I did that I shouldn't have. Something for her to punish me for."

A small smile played over Jazz's lips. "When it got to be too much, the wildlands were my retreat. Steelplate was the only one who could find me out there, and even if I got in trouble when I got home, it was peace for a little while."

"Perhaps you will come to accept that our quarters, after we bond, will be just as safe," Prowl suggested with a bit of hope.

"That would be...welcome." Jazz admitted, though he was unsure of the probability.

"What would help it happen?" Prowl solicited politely. He knew there were many factors he could not control, yet there were also many things he could.

"I don't know." Jazz shrugged. "I don't even know where we will be living in the compound after the ceremony."

"While my creator functions, we will live in my suite, the Heir's Chambers. Then we will move into the Lord's Chambers," he explained. "Both are in the main house in the center of the compound. I can show you around my suite when we return," he paused as he remembered that Jazz may not have a clue what the designations of the two suites meant in practical terms. "There is a large master berthroom, secondary berthrooms for additional mates or older creations, a rather lavish washrack, a nursery, an entry room, public entertainment room, a study and quarters for my personal servants. It is very well shielded from eavesdropping and prying optics."

It took Jazz several kliks to even try and envision having quarters that size, even if they were to be shared among several mecha. On the other hand, if they were as well guarded from uninvited nosey intruders as Prowl claimed, they might well prove to be a place where he could find some ease.

"I would like to see them, when you have the time." If Prowl felt safe in them...Jazz would hopefully learn to do the same.

"Of course," Prowl inclined his helm as his field brushed against Jazz's with affection and support. "They will be your quarters soon."

Jazz's field leaned into the contact, full of thanks and only a little hesitation at the upcoming bonding as he settled once more into the warmth of the walk and his intended.

Prowl reached out to entwine their fingers. "What about the future still unsettles you?"

"The unknown." Jazz admitted. The unknown and his own fear of failure, that he would not be what he needed to be. What Prowl needed him to be. "Failure."

"Any plan that includes success must also a possibility for failure," Prowl reflexively dropped into tactical mode. "The potential for failure or loss can not be permitted to rule decisions or it will paralyze you. Accepting its existence is the only way to succeed."

Jazz vented softly, slightly irritated with the reply but more amused. That was not exactly the answer he had been expecting, but he also was not surprised. "I know."

"I do not believe you know the odds, however," Prowl regarded him, a flicker of amusement in his field.

"I would guess that you do. So the real question would be are you planning to share them with me?" Jazz asked, half in jest but half serious as well.

"If you wish to know," Prowl teased back.

Jazz growled, reaching around to tweak the edge of one wing lightly, very much wishing to know the knowledge that Prowl was dangling in front of him. His intended chuckled and tugged his wing free.

"Very well. Based on your medical files and mine, the probability that we will not kindle within the first vorn are less than 3%. The probability that you will not complete your combat training before my next major campaign is less than 0.002%."

Jazz actually froze for a moment, startled. He knew that the odds had to have been good, for Prowl to have been teasing him like that, but those numbers were better than he could have ever imagined. 

The sudden lack of motion made Prowl turn to look at him with a questioning flicker in his field.

"Honest?" Jazz whispered, still a bit shocked.

"Those are my best calculations based on all available data," Prowl inclined his helm. "I did make one assumption that you would be fully invested in the attempts to kindle," he admitted. "If you are not, the possibility of success drops to 15.331%. I have been trained in how to force an unwilling mate to give enough energy for me to carry, and how to force them to carry. However, such efforts are unlikely at best to succeed quickly."

The mere suggestion had Jazz shuddering, fingers tightening reflexively where they were still twined with Prowl's. He vented softly, knowing that even though the idea of a being a creator was not something he was overjoyed about, he would not do anything that would jeopardize Prowl's inheritance.

"You will not have to do that." He promised quietly.

"Good," Prowl murmured, drawing him close and resting his forehelm against Jazz's. His arms, wings and field wrapped around Jazz to comfort and reassure. "I never wish to use that knowledge. After I have the heir I require to inherit, you do not have to carry again. There are other options for the other creations I need and wish to have."

"We'll see." Jazz murmured, accepting the comfort and melting into it, not making a commitment either way just yet. Prowl was already _giving_ so much that he didn't have to.

"Yes, we will," Prowl agreed, gently stroking Jazz's back. "The future holds many decisions that can wait."

That earned him a soft chuckled of amusement, Jazz nuzzling against him as the mood lifted once more, this time with a mischievous edge to it.

"And what are you thinking now?" Prowl raised an optic ridge at him.

"Show you something?" Jazz asked, visor flashing playfully.

"If you wish," Prowl was curious now, even as he tipped Jazz's chin up to kiss him soundly.

Jazz moaned softly into the kiss, not in any hurry to break the contact even if he did want see what his intended would make of what Jazz was going to show him. Strong white hands caressed his back and sides as arousal began to build in Prowl's field and heat his frame.

"Hmmm..." Jazz hummed as he pulled back from the kiss and slipped from the arms holding him, field rippling playfully against his intended. "I have a proposal for you- catch me and I am yours."

"You have less than a 0.0121% probability of escaping for more than a breem," Prowl retorted with, his face stern but his field playful and willing.

"So you think." Jazz replied with a smirk, darting in to kiss his intended lightly on the lips and brushing a hand over a sensor wing as he danced away. "Come get me then."

With that final challenge Jazz took two steps into the surrounding growth and disappeared from sight.

A low chuckle escaped Prowl as his systems revved sharply. With a deep intake of air and flare of his sensor wings to pick up even the most minute data he was off, leaping immediately onto the nearest crystal to give himself the high ground.

There was a flicker, a brush of his intended's field against his own, and then it was gone again. Teasing and leading him on.

Prowl grinned and gave himself over to the game. The thrill and arousal of the hunt or fight with none of the risk. His intended was very, very good. Sometimes there would be the sense of Jazz's field against his own, sometimes a deliberately left sign of his passing, but through it all Jazz managed to stay one step ahead of the Praxian, and even when Prowl knew he was close he still couldn't manage to catch sight of the elusive mech.

The difficulty only fueled Prowl's desires, his thrill and intent burned bright in his field whenever Jazz came close.

The game continued. Both mechs were quick studies, picking up little things about the other and using it to track or evade until Prowl picked up on a small pattern.

If Jazz followed true to form...

The Praxian circled, using a large crystal trunk as shielding, and finally caught a glimpse of the other mech. Jazz was almost in arms reach, still practically invisible as he waited, unmoving in the underbrush.

With his own systems in stealth mode Prowl carefully moved forward, his sensor wings tucked in tightly so they wouldn't catch in Jazz's peripheral vision.

One more step, carefully made, and he lunged forward to catch Jazz by the shoulders and pushed him flat to the ground, pinned by Prowl's greater mass.

There was a moment of reactive panic, Jazz struggling under the weight pinning him down, before it registered _who_ was holding him down.

The struggles died away into good humor as Jazz conceded the victory with a laugh, turning his helm for a kiss and burying his own flicker of disappointment at having been caught.

"Now, to the victor goes the spoils," Prowl purred deeply, the thrum of his powerful engine rolling through them both and his field giving no doubt what he meant. His grip shifted, granting Jazz more freedom of movement without surrendering control or dominance. "Mine," he growled with a heated kiss, his spike already sliding out and pressurizing.

"Yours." Jazz agreed, valve bared and ready, knowing what was coming and _wanting_ it, desire and surrender thick in his field as his hands reached up tease along Prowl's sides. The reaction was enough to make Prowl shiver with another spike of arousal, the kind reserved for a truly eager lover.

He kissed Jazz again and rubbed his spike along the layers of platelets around Jazz's valve, sending the first jolts of pleasure into the smaller mech.

Jazz whimpered softly at the contact, nuzzling Prowl for another kiss as his knees drew up and his hips shifted, seeking more. It was granted without hesitation. Prowl shifted his hips and lined his spike up without any need of a guiding hand and slowly rolled his hips forward. The motion drew a long moan from Jazz, his entire frame quivering slightly at the sensations of being stretched and filled, each sensor node coming online and sending a jolt of pleasure through his systems. There was nothing but pleasure in this, in the stretch and sensation of being filled.

Prowl's mouth found Jazz's and devoured him as their interface arrays came flush and Prowl ground them lightly together. 

Skillful hands traveled from Prowl's side to his hips as Jazz gave to the invading glossa, field flaring to caress with his lover and entwine fully with Prowl's. With that connection fully in place Jazz moaned at the exquisite pleasure flowing from Prowl, all at being inside him. The back of his processor wondered that his intended had waited so long for this. It felt _amazing_.

Prowl grunted softly as he drew back and drove forward, seating himself fully once more to press against the thick cluster of sensors at the top of Jazz's valve, drawing a muffled keen from the smaller mech. The tight valve rippled around Prowl's spike, squeezing and caressing with the waves of pleasure washing through Jazz. Every time the Praxian took him like this it only seemed to be better than the last.

Without withdrawing, Prowl rolled his hips to rub his spike against every surface of Jazz's valve, moaning at the charge that crackled between them in the highly conductive lubricant.

A quick search and Jazz had his lover's wings in his hands, blindly teasing at them. Soft sounds of bliss spilled from the smaller mech as Prowl drove into him again and again, each stroke and roll of hips driving their charge higher.

"You feel _so_ good," Prowl whispered against Jazz's audio, a sub-harmonic in his voice telling of just how hard he was holding back to draw out their pleasure, knowing that Jazz got off so much harder after a slow buildup.

"You're so good." His intended whispered in return, layered meaning in breathy tone and field. So good at this. So good to Jazz.

It wasn't long before Prowl's helm dropped to rest against Jazz's shoulder, every intake a ragged pant. His locked arms the only thing holding him up as he thrust his hips against his mate's in a steady, driving rhythm.

The flash of his intended's chevron caught Jazz's attention through the haze of pleasure and he turned his helm to drag his glossa along the edge as his fingers found their way into the base of the Praxian's wing joints. He was close, so very close, but he wanted to feel the rush of transfluid in his has valve, wanted a glimpse of his mate's expression in overload, before he lost himself like he always did when Prowl took him like this.

A low whine turned into a keen, only to explode into a roar as Prowl stiffened, driving his hips forward to grind blindly against Jazz's. Each thrusting roll of those hips heralded a rush of hot, charged transfluid splashing against the top sensors nodes in Jazz's valve as well as those lining the tube in Prowl's spike.

"Yes!" Jazz's cry joined his mate's at the surge that slammed through his entire frame, valve clamping down on the spike, pleasure echoing and spiraling to blinding heights through their joined fields and frames. Reflexes drove their frames on past the point where either could think until the pinnacle was a blinding white they both fell from in a glorious dance where only that exquisite moment mattered.

Slowly, reluctantly, Prowl regained his senses. Still buried fully in his mate's valve he felt the last twinges of Jazz's overload dissipating and managed to move his helm enough to kiss the lax lips.

A soft, incoherent moan was his first response, then a lazy brush of Jazz's field pushing against his own, full of affection and thanks. Prowl replied with a smile, weak nuzzle and brush of his own field full of affection and approval.


	7. Choices Made

Jazz strode down a hall in the main House. While it was not the shortest route from the training rooms to suite he was currently sharing with his intended, it tended to be one of the quieter ones, and would give him an excuse to wander through a corner of the gardens on his way to clean up before dinner. He would have walked right by the room and not paid any attention to what was going on inside - the main House was a busy place, and there was always something going on, often none of it directly his business- if one of the voices hadn't frozen him in his tracks.

It took a lot to make his intended _angry_ , and though he had only heard the tone a few times Jazz had come to recognize when Prowl was upset.

And the voice coming from the room was clearly a displeased Prowl.

He peeked inside to see his intended with his sensor wings fully flared, the fingers separated and held wide. His armor was puffed out and golden optics blazed. Despite the aggressive signals, he was standing ramrod strait; possibly one of the worst postures if he intended to attack.

The pair of mecha facing Prowl were cringing at the display, not realizing their words would cause such a reaction in the Heir. "It's the only logical explanation. Surely you can't intend any sparkling he produces to be an Heir to the _House_. The way he looks. His manners..." One babbled quickly, trying to explain.

His companion nodded in agreement, sensor wings drawn close to his frame in submission. "A young mech with an attractive enough frame and just enough status to make him acceptable but not so much that he can't be nudged to the side when a better match is available to produce heirs to the House. It all makes sense."

"Jazz will be my first bonded," Prowl nearly growled at them, his tone clipped and engine running hot. "He has everything to produce fine sparklings for this House. His sire is a hero to the Prime. His spark is strong. He is intelligent, with a quick wit, strong frame and a good heritage to pass on to _my_ creations. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Lord Heir." Both murmured, optics turning to the floor as their frames dropped into proper submission, making it quite clear that they understood what was being said, and what was not.

Whatever they might think among themselves, from now on it needed to stay there.

With a last rumble Prowl forced his engine to cool down and settled his armor. He gave a sharp nod of acceptance of their submission to his will and turned on his heel to leave.

Jazz had pulled back from the door, barely able to keep his frame quiet as he trembled, listening.

He doubted Prowl had any clue he was there- none of them in the room did. But there was his intended, not just doing as he had asked and discouraging the talk when Jazz was present, but _defending_ him in Jazz's absence.

And to noble members of the House no less. Minor members, the elder creations of a couple of Prowl's warrior siblings. Young, around Jazz's own age, actually, but old enough to know better.

He heard the conversation end, heard their submission. Long practice, and being very familiar with the act himself, allowed him to detect the grudging undertone, but also left no doubt in his processor that the pair would watch what they said in public much more carefully from now on.

He froze at the whisper and sense of Prowl's approach, caught in an internal struggle. Still frozen, he felt Prowl's field brush against his and the genuine surprise there.

Prowl, however, did not pause as he swept from the room and continued on his way. Only a gentle flicker across their brushing fields gave any indication he wished Jazz to follow, and quietly.

The younger mech detached himself from his place on the wall, falling in quietly behind his intended as they made their way through the House. It was only when they reached the privacy of Prowl's side of their quarters that his intended turned to face him.

Prowl reached out to draw Jazz into an embrace, apology rich in his field.

Jazz fell willing into his arms, frame molding against the Praxian's as he worked through his own amazement and pushed _thanks_ at the apology.

The words and rumors hurt, but he'd heard them so many times, in so many forms, since he had arrived that he was able to ignore them for the most part now. That Prowl seemed unwilling to do so, and to act when he was able, was more than Jazz had been willing to hope for.

A small part of him wondered if his seemingly predictable intended would ever cease to surprise him.

A soft nuzzle tipped Jazz's face up for a gentle, chaste kiss.

"I am sorry you have to endure that," Prowl murmured. "They should have more respect for you, even if their words were true."

"My manners are that bad?" Jazz asked, trying for levity and failing even himself as the second and much more cutting remark came out. "Or that you should set me aside once your place is secure for a more suitable first bonded?"

"Your manners are fine," Prowl reassured him gently, stroking one hand along his back. "But yes, in many Houses a match such as ours would be set aside once my position was secured. Not that long ago it would be done here as well. I do not _wish_ to put you aside. I never did."

Jazz vented softly, relaxing against his intended from the closeness and the touch. "It's annoying when they say things like that, but there is nothing they can actually do." He shrugged a little in Prowl's arms. "So long as you want me..."

"I do," he promised, kissing Jazz gently. "The talk should be quieter now."

Jazz chuckled softly at that. "You were quite scary looking."

"Good," the Praxian offered a small grin. "That was very much my intent."

Amusement threaded through Jazz's field as he tilted his helm to kiss his intended, warm and inviting with the growing edge of playfulness that was Jazz relaxed. "I'm going to need to clean up soon for the sake of 'manners', if I am going to be presentable at dinner."

"Well, I might as well enjoy making you properly dirty before you clean up," Prowl returned the kiss, his hands and field shifting from comforting to amorous. "I do so enjoy your frame."

Jazz hummed, pressing into Prowl's hands where they touched his frame and rubbing against the Praxian suggestively as his expression morphed into one of mock innocence. "How dirty is 'properly dirty'?"

"Filled with my transfluid, your face slick with my lubricant and your frame decorated with my paint," Prowl rumbled hotly as he took a step back, drawing his lover towards his berthroom.

Jazz purred, field flaring with delight at the suggestions and following along eagerly. "Feels so good when you fill me."

"Good," Prowl claimed a more heated kiss, but it was his field's intense flare of _pride-pleasure_ that spoke of just how much that meant to him. 

The genuine pleasure in Jazz's field pushed against his, willing and open.


	8. Bonding to a Greater Lord Heir

The gentle brush of a long-missed and very welcome field snapped Jazz out of his efforts not to pace or tremble, or simply hide. He'd been polished, primped and detailed within a micron of his life and didn't dare do anything that would mar the work when he would soon be standing before the Prime to be bonded.

"Creator!" He bounded forward, stopping just shy of physically touching, making do with his field and looking around as the rest of his family approached, suddenly realizing just how much he had missed them all.

"Jazz." Crossbeam nodded, reaching down and catching a sparkling in midair before she could attach herself to Jazz's leg. Jazz couldn't help but smile at the disappointed whine from his brother's youngest creation at the foiling of her plans. "You look well."

"Thank you." Jazz answered. "As do you."

His field flared out to touch the others as they gathered around, greeting them all. His brother and Heir to the House of Crossbeam, Cadence, and his bonded Skysweep. Skysweep retrieved their sparkling as Cadence circled his brother once, satisfying himself that Jazz was well and indulging in a way their creator couldn't in public.

"Jazz." He smiled warmly at his brother once his inspection was complete. "It is good to see you again." The field that brushed against Jazz's revealed much more than the words- the fact that his brother had actually missed him.

"We don't have long, but they wanted to see you before the ceremony started." Crossbeam explained. "You seem to have settled well."

"It is...not what I had expected at first." Jazz admitted quietly, the longing for _home_ rising with the nearness of his family. But it was more an old ache now than the sharp pain it had once been. "Prowl is...Prowl." He added with a small smile, not even sure how to begin to describe his intended to his creator, knowing that the Prowl that Crossbeam would know and the Prowl that Jazz knew would be two very different mecha.

"He is an exceptional mecha," Crossbeam acknowledged. "Politically this is truly an amazing orn for the House of Crossbeam." The flicker of his field expressed his personal regret of how the alliance had happened, and a hint of the explosion that had happened when he had found out. He shot a look at Cadence, silently requesting his heir to take his family elsewhere while he guided Jazz towards an unoccupied corner of the temple garden. "Has he treated you well?" he asked very quietly.

Jazz stood beside his Sire, considering his answer. "More than well." He concluded, his field brushing against his sire's, reinforcing the words. Jazz glanced at his family across the courtyard. "He has done everything in his power to make this work."

"Good," Crossbeam managed a small smile. "I do hope to see you occasionally. Even though you will soon belong to another House, I am still your creator. You will always be welcome in my home."

"Thank you." Jazz said, looking forward even more to the promised trip, when he would be able to introduce his sire to yet another grand creation. He smiled at Crossbeam, his own sadness buried under a hope that things would work out, and the knowledge that his sire loved him and cared about what happened to him.

Crossbeam hesitated, then set his features firmly. "Remember, you are the creation of a fine House. It may be small and young, but it was granted existence by the Prime himself. The Prime will often _listen_ to me, and I will always listen to you."

For a moment all Jazz could do was stare at his sire. "I will remember."

"Good," Crossbeam lightened his mood by force of will alone and reached out to place a guiding hand just shy of touching his creation's shoulder. "Come. It is time."

A shiver went through the small mech, nerves flaring again, though they were tempered a little by the presence of his sire.

He turned, following his creator's direction and out into the public optic.

Not far away in another well-protected corner of the temple garden Prowl was kneeling, attempting to center himself for what was coming.

There was a gentle but firm brush of a field against his own, the familiar presence of his own sire. Calm and supportive, there was a moment as the elder mech knelt slowly by his heir. Even without looking, Prowl knew that required activity of the orn was putting a great strain on his elder, likely shortening Baldedrift's already brief time left in his frame.

"Greetings, creator," Prowl spoke softly and calmly, a state his field betrayed to the mech who knew him like few others.

"Prowl." The Lord finally settled his frame fully, wings folding down into resting pose. "You are distressed." Bladedrift observed quietly, reading Prowl in a glance and a touch of their fields.

"This is a significant thing to do. I do not know him well," Prowl admitted. "I ... like him, creator. It is not what you have with Spark Crest."

His sire hummed softly, understanding. "I am sorry circumstance has put this weight on you." Bladedrift admitted very softly, hurting in his spark to be placing such a burden on his heir. "I had many vorns to court Spark Crest before we were bonded, but even still the relationship that you know was work of centuries after our bonding."

He shifted slightly, the minute motion giving away the strain being placed on him by holding the position that he was, even if his field was strong with the stubbornness that was keeping him there. "The choice of your mate was a hurried thing," Even if they had exhausted their choices before being presented with Jazz. "Such as the choosing of a first bonded should not be. But I pray to Primus that he may be to you what your carrier has always been to me."

"As do I, creator," Prowl said softly, the caress of his field hopeful, thankful and supportive. "I believe the odds are good, for as little data as I have."

"And you would know." Bladedrift commented with a small smile, proud of his Heir's natural abilities and the work that Prowl had put into developing them. "Your intended is young, and from what I have heard stubborn and impulsive. But from what I have seen, he is honestly fond of you and wants to be with you. Nurture that."

"Yes, creator," Prowl responded on reflex. It was in his field that his true thanks for the advice rested. "He seems highly tolerant of my ... quirks of nature."

"It would seem that he has some of his own." The older mech tilted his helm, then started to stand. "It is time."

With the respect due his elder and Lord, Prowl moved with slow steadiness to his pedes, as not to show up the mecha that was in every way his better. He accepted the guiding hand of his sire and walked with him, surreptitiously supporting him as they entered the Grand Temple of Primus in Praxus.

Bladedrift's field brushed against his creation's once more, in thanks and acknowledgement, before the elder mech drew himself up, his bearing the regal one of a Lord of a House as they entered the public optic. Though his condition was far from a secret, something nearly impossible to keep with the way his sensor wings and chevron tips were graying, it was no excuse to be anything less than commanding.

He walked Prowl through the gathering that parted smoothly for them and down the crystal path to the podium where the aging but still potent Nova Prime stood. Jazz soon joined them, his hand resting on the arm of his sire.

"Who stands before the Prime to be bonded in law this orn?" Nova's deep baritone echoed across the assembly.

"Jazz of the House of Crossbeam, stands as bonding offering to the House of the Shining Sun." Jazz's sire spoke firmly, even and formal, without a hint of the reservation he had displayed earlier. With that the elder mech bowed and stepped back, leaving his youngest creation to stand alone before the Prime that had conquered half the known universe.

"Prowl, of the House of Shining Sun, stands today to be bonded." Bladedrift intoned formally, his own slight inclination no less stately as he stepped back, leaving his Heir to stand with his intended before the Prime.

The giant of a mech, large even for an aerial convoy class, took in the pair before him for a scrutinizing moment before he spoke. "Prowl, creation of Primus, do you accept the mecha beside you as your bonded mate; to cherish, respect and support as Primus supports us all?"

"I do, Avatar of Primus," Prowl bowed his helm deeply, giving no outward hint that he had been on a designation-only level of familiarity with the Prime for much of his existence.

"Jazz, creation of Primus, do you accept the mecha beside you as your bonded mate; to cherish, respect and support as Primus supports us all?"

The smaller mech bowed his helm, deeply respectful as he offered the ritual answer required of him. "I do, Avatar of Primus."

"Do you intend to complete this covenant before Primus before the next orn is closed?"

"Yes, Avatar of Primus," Prowl answered. Ritual words or not, there was a genuine flutter of excitement at the prospect.

"Yes, Avatar of Primus." Jazz echoed his intended, though much more quiet.

"Then to the laws of the empire, you are now bonded," Nova Prime rumbled, the warmth in his voice a rare thing to hear.

As soon as his voice died out, the crowd cheered, some more riotous than others. For the entire province, this was incredibly good news.

The ceremony itself was simple, the words the same from the lowest mecha presenting their vows before Primus to the those of high Houses standing there that orn. A public acknowledgement of the joining that was something only Primus would be witness to.

Jazz shivered minutely at the cheers, standing after Prowl rose, accepting the arm his intended offered him. 

Prowl's field brushed against his, offering support and protection as the Praxian led them into the crowd and the greetings and congratulations that would consume much of the remaining orn. Trust filtered back through their meshed fields, thanks for support and the soft brush of promise that Jazz would be there with him as mecha surrounded them. 

They would be expected to be visible for the celebration that orn, with the prominence of Prowl's House and the status of many of those attending. Only when the sun set and evening fell would they be excused, and not expected to venture out much for the better part of a metacycle. During the entire meet and greet, Jazz remained close to Prowl, deferring to the ranking mech to do most of the talking unless he was directly addressed. He saw his creator's second bonded, introduced Prowl to all his kin that had come, but generally the orn was a blur of unfamiliar faces and designations that Prowl seemed to know.

It wasn't lost on Jazz that every time he seemed to feel drained by the experience, Prowl would make some excuse to take him away for some energon, or a confection, or to simply be in a quiet corner for a breem. He welcomed these quiet moments, time for him regroup in the comfort of his intended's protection. He was handling himself, but this event was a larger than anything he had ever attended, and this time he was a focal point of the celebration.

In the blur of it all, Jazz didn't even realize this latest 'escape' was the final one until Prowl nudged him to transform and follow him back to the House compound.

Relief spilled from the younger mech as he slipped into his alt mode and fell in behind Prowl. He tailed his intended closely through the crowds that were still in the streets celebrating, and were likely to be there for several more orns. Their guards were adept at being unnoticed, but they were there, ready to give their sparks to defend their Lord Heir and his first bonded. Ready to do anything to protect the future of their House.

Despite the relatively short distance, the drive took nearly half a joor before they were in the relative safety and sanity of the House grounds. Once the massive front gates closed, Prowl relaxed, his field extending to caress Jazz, full of affection, desire and not a small amount of nervousness.

Jazz transformed, optics flickering around the entry yard before he too relaxed a little, out from under the pressure of the thousands of optics and the need to be at his best every nanoklik. His frame slumped a little as he vented, releasing some of the tension as his field mixed with Prowl's, returning the affection and betraying the fear and nerves that still had him on edge.

His spark, the last part of him that was still _his_ , wouldn't be after tonight. It would be another's. It would be _Prowl's_ , and that specific was the only reason Jazz wasn't fleeing in terror.

They walked in silence, side by side, to the bonding suite. A smaller, much more intimate space that was an odd mix of noble sensibilities with the attached servant's quarters and kitchen separated from the living quarters and middle-class commoner practicalities with its small entry room that served most purposes, berthroom and washrack. In this case all done in Praxian style and remodeled with Prowl and the needs of this bonding in mind.

It was only when the door closed and locked behind them that Prowl completely relaxed the tension in his frame. He turned to Jazz and reached out to cup his mate's cheek. "I will do all I can to make this as good for you as you will allow."

One hand reached up to cover Prowl's, the field brushing against the Praxians' flickering with curiosity and trust. Jazz trusted Prowl, trust his intended had earned and cultivated carefully and was now freely given. "I know."

With a small smile Prowl leaned in to kiss him, his free arm reaching around to draw Jazz close as he had so many time before. It was movement and intent that always led to pleasure for Jazz, no matter how nervous he was. His intended melted against Prowl, willing even through the strain and drain of the orn's events. Soft kisses and touches continued as Prowl drew him to the berthroom and onto the berth, only to leave him there briefly.

Jazz stretched out slowly on the berth, feeling out the luxurious cushion and softness. His optics tracked his intended leaning over to a side table for a cube of energon and some jellies.

When Prowl returned to sit, half against Jazz, he offered one of the jellies to his mate's lips between two fingers. Jazz purred and nuzzled against the hand gently before his glossa slipped out, accepting the jelly with a flare of delight. These were something that Prowl had introduced him to, and he had become very fond of sharing them with his intended.

In this simple act Prowl also reminded Jazz that for all the focused need to get him with spark that was coming up, Prowl had no intention of making it an onerous processes. This was pleasure, and it was _them_ , and whatever else might come of it, the Praxian intended it to be a good memory.

A soft kiss followed, Prowl's glossa darting out to caress Jazz's lip plates. Lips that parted willingly under the touch, inviting as his glossa teased Prowl's and his field flared playfully against the other mech. Prowl responded in kind, his field laced with arousal as he leaned over his mate and fully claimed his mouth.

Reluctantly the Praxian pulled back a bit and offered Jazz the energon. "You'll need your energy tonight. Bonding takes a great deal out of one, I have been told."

Jazz shifted around into a more upright position, accepting the energon and snuggling against Prowl as he took a drink, visor flashing at the smooth quality as it slid down his intake.

With a sigh he nuzzled against Prowl and offered his intended some as well.

Prowl nuzzled him and accepted the cube, drinking some before put it on the side table. "Have you read the files on how to bond?"

"The ones the medic gave when they did the check." Jazz didn't add in all the cryptic comments that had been made as well, since very little of what had been said on other issues had proven to be true where Prowl was concerned.

With a thoughtful nod Prowl considered him. "To my understanding, we merge far deeper than a pleasure merge, sharing memories and feelings. We must focus on the desire to bond and taking in the full depth of the sharing. If it works, when the overload fades we will share a connection between our sparks."

Jazz nodded, since that lined up with what the files had told him when he had read over them, even if he didn't fully comprehend what they were saying.

"If you don't mind, I would prefer to merge for pleasure first," Prowl leaned forward to kiss him once more, a hand gently stroking down Jazz's chest. "It must be for the bond soon, but not tonight."

"Seeing as how we are back to the place where I have no idea what I'm doing, I don't think I'm in any position to object." Jazz pointed out, humor covering his own nerves but also revealing once again just how much faith and trust he had in his intended.

A small smile crossed Prowl's face before he kissed Jazz again, slow and sensuously, his glossa exploring the well-known territory in an effort to help them both relax.

It worked, the mech in his arms relaxing into the familiar pleasure as he was eased back on the berth. Hands reached up in response to trace over Prowl's frame, the firm, knowing touches gliding over plating and dipping into seams in a way that shared both pleasure and comfort. Soft moans were swallowed as their frames began to heat from familiar touches and the familiar, trusted field.

With a light kiss Prowl pulled away, his hands moving down Jazz's chest, exploring much as he had the first time, with his lips and glossa trailing.

Jazz quivered at the touches, gaze centered on his intended, feeling the touches and the gentle encouragement. There was a soft click, reluctance evident in the fact that the plates remained closed.

"Shu, shu," Prowl cooed, his field trying to reassure his mate. "I'd like your valve first, love."

The smaller mech relaxed at reassurance, valve cover slipping away and eagerness for that familiar and very welcome pleasure flaring in his field and reflected in the eagerness of Jazz's hands over his lover's frame.

A warm smile and caress of Prowl's field rewarded him as the Praxian moved lower, feathering kisses and caresses over Jazz's sensitive abdominal plates and causing Jazz to quiver and moan.

Prowl knew him well, knew which touches made his frame burn with need. "Want you, please."

A soft sound of desire escaped Prowl. He allowed his spike to escape and pressurize even as scooted further down and lifted Jazz's legs to his shoulders and pressed his lips over the platelets surrounding the valve. His glossa slid out to slick around the rim and lap up the lubricant oozing from it.

Jazz whined at the touch, hands dropping from Prowl's frame to dig into the berth as a too-talented glossa darted into his valve to taste the lining and flick against the nodes Prowl found there. A soft hum came from Prowl's vocalizer to vibrate everything in contact with his mate while his engine revved for a deeper counterpoint.

"Prowl..." Jazz pleaded softly, his intended just out of reach and pleasuring him so.

That was enough. Prowl gave one last lick and drew himself up before leaning forward to kiss Jazz as he sank into that hot, slick embrace with a slow, indulgent slide.

Jazz moaned into the kiss, shivering at the initial slide of the spike in his valve, managing to keep his hips still as his valve rippled around Prowl's spike. His mate, his lover...soon his bonded.

Feelings deeper than mere affection filtered through his field, trust and hope and belief as Prowl seated himself fully. With a flare of promise Jazz's hands came up to find Prowl's wings, offering in return. They pressed eagerly into the touch, desire, affection, relief and exhilaration flowed from Prowl as he broke the kiss to press his face against Jazz's neck and drew his hips back.

It felt _so_ good. The slide against lubricant-coated sensor nodes, the touch of knowing hands on his wings, the warmth of an eager lover against him, the sensations and emotions across their fields, the trust that allowed him to bury his face against his intended and be vulnerable as he lost himself in the sensations coming at him from all angles.

An affectionate purr resonated between them as Jazz homed in on the helm and chevron now in his reach, nuzzling gently at first as his fingers traced along the wings, then more firmly when he pulled a ragged sound of pleasure from Prowl. A slight increase in the pace Prowl set with their hips and licking nibbles at his neck cables came as a secondary reward.

"Yes." Jazz moaned softly as his hips rolled into each thrust, adjusting to the pace Prowl set easily and savoring each slide of Prowl's spike in his valve. Pleasure that he had never even imagined was possible, but that Prowl taught him and shared with him because Prowl _cared_ about him, and now for him. Three metacycles ago he couldn't have imagined this was possible, _any_ of it. Yet here he was, on his bonding night, eagerly anticipating every touch and movement of his intended, every sound the larger mech made.

The pleasure built, electricity dancing through their circuits. Prowl's intakes came in ragged gasps. His back arched slightly, driving him deeper into his lover, his bonded, and picking up the pace. Strong hands caressed his wings as Jazz moaned in pleasure and encouragement, air cycling through his intakes to combat the charged heat building in his frame as each drive of his lover's spike pushed him closer to the edge and over.

With a cry of bliss he arched against Prowl, keening long and loud. It was a sound that increased in volume as hot, charged transfluid exploded into his valve, lighting up every sensor along with the intense rush that came when Prowl roared his overload, every cable taunt and pleasure rippling through them both.

Jazz rode the rush of pleasure with his mate until the overload released him and his frame went limp, falling back on the berth as his vents cycled to cool his frame and they simply enjoyed the hazy glow of post overload contentment with Prowl sprawled on top of him.

"You always feel amazing," Prowl murmured, more than content to remain where he was for the time being.

Jazz made a soft sound, somewhere between pleasure and pride. He had been afraid once, that he wouldn't be enough to please his vastly more experienced mate. But there was no denying the true pleasure in Prowl's field or the content way the other mech was sprawled over him.

Gradually they settled, their systems normalizing enough for Prowl to lift himself and shift to kiss Jazz again, softly and tenderly.

The kiss was met and returned, Jazz simply basking in the warmth and sharing. A gentle, sure hand slipped between them, teasing the invisible seam along Jazz's chest plates.

The hesitation of before was missing in this response, the plates sliding away under the gentle touch as Jazz drew strength and confidence from his mate, his trust in Prowl firm. The reward came first in the flare of _pleasure-awe_ from Prowl as rich forest green-blue light caressed his features for the first time.

"Beautiful," he whispered, unwilling to do more than appreciate the sight before him for a long moment.

Pride and a moment of shyness was his answer. It was certainly not the first time that someone had seen his spark, but it was the first time that Prowl had seen it. And Prowl approved.

For some reason that was important to Jazz.

Prowl leaned down and placed a feather-light kiss on the crystalline chamber before lifting himself up so Jazz could see his spark as chest armor, much thicker and more finely crafted, parted to display the brilliant ice blue light.

Jazz shivered as the strong light washed over him, hand shifting without thought with the desire to touch, fingers running across Prowl's frame to brush lightly over the spark chamber. His mate shivered at the touch, a soft sound of pleasure escaping him. His field encouraged Jazz, welcoming the touch and curiosity.

Jazz continued to touch and feel, amazed at the energy that was already tingling across his palm before shifting his frame a little, offering his spark to Prowl's inspection, wanting to feel a touch there again.

With a smile Prowl reached down, skimming his fingers very lightly around the edge of the iris that would spiral open to expose the spark within. Jazz moaned at the touch, eagerness flaring in his field as he focused on Prowl, searching for direction, wanting to know what to do next.

Prowl commanded his chamber to open, slowly, allowing the first searching tendrils to dance across the black fingers still touching it.

Reactions swirled from Jazz in a tumble. Awe and wonder were dominant, but with them was a desire to feel and experience and possess.

Lingering edges of fear faded as ice blue whispers of energy wrapped around his fingers, caressing and pulling him deeper until Jazz's spark reacted, the chamber starting to spiral open, only to be stopped by the soft clear rubber seal over it, marking him as untouched.

A low, resonant moan of anticipation escaped Prowl as he gently caught the edge of the seal and pulled it off. Each little bit that separated sent a tingle jolting through Jazz's systems.

Jazz whimpered at the small jolts- not pain but small surges that only fueled his desire and promised something good at the end as the protective barrier was stripped away.

A final tug and the chamber opened, exposing his spark to his intended and the open for the first time in Jazz's functioning. Shivers ran through his frame as it was assaulted with new input.

The temperature of the surrounding environment, the caress of air from the vents of the mech on top of him, the almost overpowering nearness of Prowl's own spark, and the calling he felt for it.

"Just pleasure, unless you _want_ more," Prowl managed to keep his voice steady as he shifted, bringing his chest down so the first tendrils of their sparks found each other with a gasp.

The sound of wonder from his lover wasn't very coherent, but the way the green spark reacted to Prowl's spoke volumes, reaching out to Prowl's after the initial touch with a need and a want reflecting the desires of its' owner.

Prowl shivered, his spark responding eagerly to send out dozens of leaders, seeking the eager one below until Prowl submitted and brought them closer, though still not close enough to do more than mingle their coronas.

They were both flooded with intense pleasure and the intimate sense of exactly _who_ that pleasure was from.

Jazz's processor tried to keep up with the information his spark was providing, the intimate sense of Prowl and what that meant on this level. The care and the pleasure that was for him, unsheilded and uncorrupted by outside influence and all Prowl's.

His first taste of the very essence of his mate, the small things that he had been able to observe and learn distilled to their purest form and just barely revealed to him at this level of sharing. In his desire for more, he offered Prowl more of himself than the surface with complete trust, if not understanding. Green spark tendrils almost danced against the strong ice blue ones, playfully teasing and enticing.

They both began to loose touch with their physical selves as all attention focused inward, to their individual sparks and to the foreign spark now mingling with their very essence. Slow, with infinite care and precision, Prowl lowered himself a little more, drawing them closer together.

~Are you sure?~ Prowl spark-voice caressed Jazz, full of care and determination that this be done _right_ , no matter the pressures of the outside world.

~Why not?~ Was the almost instant response. Playful innocence touched Prowl's spark, a whisper of the bright core of his intended, and layered with a calm acceptance of the merge, of touching Prowl's spark and what was there, of feeling and wanting to feel more.

~I do not wish to push you,~ Prowl's response was a caress of pure care mingled with the utter delight that Jazz _wanted_ to bond on this level. He lowered himself a bit more, giving Jazz a taste of just how deep a merge could go as the younger mech was welcomed into the intensely ordered being that was Prowl. With it came the first real understanding of how much the Praxian was influenced and shaped by the specialized hardware he had been upgraded with as a mid-stage mechling. In there too, though, was the truth that Prowl had been a reserved, focused and highly logical being even as a sparkling.

There was a pause this time as Jazz explored all of that, welcoming Prowl's presence and the deeper sharing, and accepted it with just a hint of amusement.

~You aren't.~ Jazz promised him, but with that was the first hint of reservation as Jazz stepped aside, offering Prowl clear insight to the mecha touching him. Passion and stubbornness. A deep love for those he cared about. A drive to explore and learn that bordered on reckless sometimes.

Offered as well there was the spark deep trust that Jazz had for very few individuals.

Prowl's shudder at that trust was a movement of unshakable awe and deep honor. He trusted every mecha under him with his honor as a General and his spark on the battlefield, trusted his fellow political kin to put the good of the House first, but this ... there were precious few that Prowl trusted to _know_ him. He understood fully how special it was to be offered, and he was deeply moved that he had earned that trust in a scant three metacycles.

They drew a little closer, deepening that connection as Prowl offered up his memories, the very way he processed and stored data, the very core of his sense of self and value.

Mutual understanding and acceptance came with the deepening, memory for memory and trust for trust. Pride and honor from Jazz at who the mech with him was, and humbleness that Prowl was willing to be with him.

The last bits of fear from Jazz. Fear that he might still be rejected as he had been in the past by those he had only hoped would love him, and how deeply that still hurt. The promise that even if he failed he would try.

And with every little bit of _more_ that Prowl offered how much Jazz needed and wanted it, and was willing to give all of himself in return.

~All I ask for is your best,~ Prowl's thought swirled around them, pure in a place beyond words or misunderstanding. ~For that I offer you my all.~

A shudder came through the connection as Jazz's control began to slip, steadied only by Prowl's support and guidance for this long and pushed beyond the breaking point now with desire and want and emotion that was beyond his ability to contain.

Desire for Prowl and a wordless desire for the connection between them, strengthened by the knowing that it could be permanent pushed at the Praxian.

A gentle caress went all the way through Jazz as his bonded in law lowered himself the rest of the way to bring their sparks fully in contact, allowing the very cores to touch. Intent to merge fully, to lose themselves in the other and _bond_ filtered freely.

~Yes. Please.~ Was the last bit of coherency Jazz had as his spark melted into his bonded's, making what was in the optics of the law true in the optics of Primus as well as they lost themselves, the lines between them blurring and vanishing as the two sparks wove into one, never to separate completely in this frame or beyond.

* * *

Awareness came slowly, Jazz's processor a little fuzzy as he came out of a recharge he didn't remember falling into. His energy level was low, a priority warning informed him, but not so low that Jazz couldn't dismiss it as he tried to focus on other things through a sense of warm absolute contentment. His internal chronometer informed him that it was late in the morning. His frame informed him even before his optics came online that he was on a berth. The rest of him was informing him that Prowl was still there holding him. Which just wasn't adding up, since Prowl never recharged in this late.

"You're still here." He pointed out, definitely not complaining as he turned to face his lover and bonded.

~Of course,~ came the relaxed, content and very much not verbal reply.

The confusion held out a moment longer before the events of the night before crashing back, how startled Jazz was at the delivery of the answer evident in the sudden tension of his frame. Tension that eased as a bright gaze settled on Prowl but attention turned inward, to the new but familiar presence in his own spark. Slow, cautious _feeling_ crept along the connection, curious.

Prowl returned it with warmth, welcome, affection and desire, while still giving Jazz time to explore and become accustomed to their new reality.

The rest of the tension drained away as Jazz snuggled against his bonded, truly bonded, and explored the connection. Joy and peace traveled across it, along with a sense of excitement and almost laughter.

~That was fun.~

~We can do so often, for fun,~ Prowl's sense of humor flickered back, along with his desire to do so, as he shifted to kiss his bonded. ~Hungry?~

Jazz purred at the idea of merging again as their lips met.

~Yes.~ He finally admitted as the energy warning popped up again, more insistent than before.

Prowl smile and pulled away from the kiss. "Then let us fix that, then we can indulge in each other some more."

"I like the sound of that." Jazz answered with a playful flare of eagerness along the new bond as he stole a quick kiss before slipping out of Prowl's arms and rolling from the berth.

~Back here,~ Prowl growled playful and reached to grab his mate around the waist. "On the side table."

Jazz laughed, stretching out to snag a solid from the table as he was dragged back on the berth and against his mate by his waist. Twisting in the hold he held up the confection, offering it to his mate. It was accepted with a delicate kiss of lips and a smooth glossa.

With a purr and flare of energy Prowl nuzzled him, his hand creeping up to Jazz's abdominals, stroking them with a desire that had little to do with interfacing. A shiver ran through Jazz at with the brush of energy and the hand over his armor plates, stopping him mid stretch as he reached for another confection.

"Go ahead," Prowl purred, deep and resonant and full of desire as he kissed along Jazz's neck. "I never thought I'd want to kindle for anything other than the good of the House," he murmured. "But you ... I believe I _want_ to create with."

Jazz shivered at the attention to his neck, silently contemplating Prowl's words as he pulled several more confections from the tray that had been left for them. With a nuzzle he offered another one to Prowl as he spoke softly. "I am glad to hear that."

Prowl hummed, accepting a connection from his mate's fingers. ~As I am, to feel it. We will make strong, smart, attractive mecha, my love. You complete me well.~

Jazz sighed softly, the praise meaning a great deal to him. ~We can be a _family_.~ He said quietly, the layers of meaning in the bond giving the word so much more meaning as he soothed the warning pings of his systems with a couple confections.

~Yes, a _family_ ,~ Prowl agreed, offering a slightly more realistic but no less hopeful version. Yes, he would have several bonded by the time they were old, but Jazz would always be first, and the harmony was what Prowl had seen in his own life, and Jazz had seen in his brother's. ~More than anything, I wish my chambers to be a place of peace.~

Thankfulness flowed along the new bond, and a willing surrender, offering Prowl the last confection he had picked up. ~You wish to begin attempting to kindle.~ Jazz deduced.

~Yes,~ Prowl murmured, a thin tendril of surprise still there at his own desire for this. ~I wish you to be ready more.~

Doubt rippled across the bond, Jazz not sure that he would ever personally be ready to be a creator, even though the House demanded it of him.

~Then for pleasure only this orn,~ Prowl continued to kiss along his neck, one hand stroking Jazz's abdominals while the other moved up to stroke along his chest seam.

* * *

Eleven orns later, Prowl was snuggled against his mate, his bonded in every way, only to feel uneasy. After a moment of prodding at the sensation he realized it wasn't _his_.

"Jazz?" he murmured softly. "Talk to me."

"Never going to be ready." Jazz admitted, cringing a little in Prowl's arms with a small ripple of shame over the bond. By now Prowl was able to recognize the disjointed speak that meant Jazz was uncomfortable or upset.

A gentle embrace over their bond, warmth and acceptance that was Prowl's stock and trade with Jazz, tried to sooth the negative feelings. ~What is your fear?~

~I won't be a good creator.~ Jazz answered instantly, slipping into the bond speak that was becoming more natural with each passing orn. There was a long pause before the rest of it came out. ~That I will fail you. That somehow our creation won't be _good enough_.~

~It will be. You won't,~ Prowl said firmly, all his belief, his faith in his tactical computer and its numbers, behind the statement. ~No one knows how to be a creator when they have their first one,~ he stroked Jazz gently. ~We won't be alone in raising it. You are not alone in the House. There are mecha who genuinely like you and have raised fine sparklings to help.~

Jazz's reluctance was still clear as he nuzzled against Prowl, doubts and fears only partially soothed as he dug into the heart of the problem. ~Either way, we are running out of time.~

~Yes,~ Prowl admitted. ~We still have some time, if it will help.~

Jazz shook his helm, knowing the truth. He wouldn't be any more ready a decaorn from now, or even two. A full vorn probably wasn't long enough to convince him that he would be a good creator.

But Prowl needed him _now_.

~You will be a fine creator,~ Prowl assured him as he shifted to reach for a cube on the side table and lifted it to Jazz's lips. ~Drink, my love.~

A familiar command after a decaorn of sharing the berth, and Jazz obeyed without question, the energon sliding as smoothly down his intake now as it had the first night for their bonding. He quickly felt stronger as the energon fueled his systems and turned to his bonded once he was finished to kiss him. He knew in his spark that the effort to kindle began now.

Just a flicker of that throught the bond was enough to fire Prowl's arousal as he kissed back, his hands running down Jazz's frame in a very deliberate effort to draw the foreplay out as long as he could stand.

Glossa teased and explored as hands moved in a familiar dance over frames, seeking to bring and to share pleasure that would eventually result in overload, but an overload where that pleasure was no longer the sole purpose.

It was Prowl who lost his will first, unlocking and parting his chest plates with a needful whine into a kiss as fierce as any he'd given before. The bond was absolutely _alive_ with his desire, to merge, to create a new life, to finish the path he had long been chosen for and finalize his claim on his creator's title, to have it be _with Jazz_.

The feel of his bonded's spark and desire so close to his had Jazz's exposing his spark without much conscious thought. The answering desire was more for his bonded than for any need of Jazz's to create, but it was willing and wanting all the same.

He had Prowl's promise of love and support, given on a level where there was no misunderstanding the meaning, and he had given Prowl his trust completely.

~Yours.~ Jazz offered as their sparks reached to touch with driving intent.

Gratitude and affection flowed through the bond, highlighted and intensified the moment their coronas touched. The merge came fast and deep, completely at odds with the slow, gentle touching that had led up to it.

Jazz keened at the familiar but different sense of merging as their sparks wove together with the intent to create not just a single entity, but a separate, new one. The intensity of Prowl's desire washed through him, over him, encompassed him completely until the overload crashed into them both, wild and strong as a tsunami, demanding their all and leaving both deep in an exhausted recharge.

* * *

Their metacycle in seclusion in the bonding suite was over, and Jazz had to admit he had never been happier in his existence to be out of a room. It had been fun, and pleasurable, and all things good, but it was a _long_ time to do nothing but interface, recharge and talk.

All that was before you added in Prowl getting twitchy about so long away from his duties and training.

Just the change, and the change of scenery, was good as he followed Prowl through the compound to the House' small peace-time medical suite. Both for the peace of mind of the Lord of the House and the for the official records the House medic would do scans to confirm their bond and the good health of both mecha.

And in Prowl and Jazz's case she would also be performing a scan to confirm the good news they hoped to announce at the next formal family breakfast.

Ready to be a creator or not, Jazz was in full agreement that he hoped he was carrying. Beyond the issues if he wasn't, it meant their love life could get back to something sane. He liked interfacing as much as the next mecha, but three to five times an orn, every orn, with little variation was more than slightly numbing, even if it did explain Prowl's earlier certainty that they would kindle. Even if the odds were low for a given interface, the sheer number of times they tried was bound to have results.

Prowl opened the door to the medical suite and nodded politely to the House healer. "Keepsafe, I believe you have met Jazz."

"Yes, Lord Prowl," she smiled warmly at the pair, and especially at Jazz. "I preformed his examination shortly after he arrived. Please, come and relax on the berth, Lord Jazz," she motioned them into a smaller side room where they could have privacy.

Jazz nodded agreeably, having found Keepsafe to be both professional and personable during their initial meeting, and far better than what he was accustomed to have to deal with. He settled on the soft berth, at ease with Prowl nearby, and prepared for the inevitable poking and prodding that always came before the annoying tickle of the in depth scans he would have to endure.

Scans that would continue either way once they had results from this set, since if he was not carrying it meant continuing efforts to kindle and scans to check, and if he was already carrying all parties were going to want the health and progress of the developing sparkling closely tracked.

Jazz suddenly realized he was probably going to be very sick of seeing the inside of the medical suite before it was all over.

~It is for a good cause,~ Prowl smiled at him and rested a hand on his shoulder before squeezing lightly. His side of the bond was buzzing with hope, excitement and no small amount of anxiety as the examination progressed. It was far too early to see the new spark, even if they'd kindled on that very first try. Only medical scans could detect it, if it was there.

Eventually Keepsafe smiled at the pair. "Jazz's side of the bond is strong and stable, and he is definitely carrying a strong new spark roughly three decaorn old."

A sharp sigh of relief escaped the young mech, tension that had been building in his frame releasing as he fell back on the berth. The next instant he was looking to his bonded, feeling over the bond for Prowl's reaction to the news. Relief, joy, anticipation ... but largely relief rushed towards him as Prowl's features broke into a warm, pleased smile.

He leaned down and kissed Jazz gently. ~We did it.~

~So we did.~ Jazz agreed, just as relieved as his bonded that they had managed to overcome at least two hurdles in the series laid out before them.

"You may get up, Jazz. I must check Prowl's side of the bond," Keepsafe said politely.

Jazz snuck another kiss from his mate before sliding gracefully from the berth, clearing the space for Prowl, who took it with equal grace, if a bit more reluctance. The mental grimace Jazz felt from him spoke volumes of his typical experience in this room.

"Any error messages?" Keepsafe began as she tapped a medical dataport for entry, something Prowl granted without question but with reservations.

"Nothing unexpected," he informed her stiffly.

The replay had Jazz's instant attention, concern slipping across the bond before he could catch it. Not wanting to be in medical was a sentiment he could understand and respect, but the idea that Prowl expected error messages was enough to make him worry.

~Minor strains only,~ Prowl reassured him. ~I took more care with you than myself. We have been _extremely_ active.~

Keepsafe huffed but didn't chastise him, at least not verbally.

"Now that the new spark is confirmed, I will take it easy for three orns for self-repair to do the work," Prowl said in a mixture of promise and insistence.

She let another huff out but nodded acceptance and looked at Jazz. "See to it that he does. Your bonded is as bad as any sparked warrior in insisting that self-repair handle all minor damage."

Jazz nodded quickly in agreement, unwilling to tell her that he was just as bad. It was one of the few things that the medic in his creator's House had gotten after him for every check-up. ~No reason for you to not take it easy for a little while now.~ Jazz pushed gently, letting a little of his own displeasure at Prowl having pushed himself that hard show through.

~I look forward to it,~ Prowl admitted, just a flicker of shame in the thought. ~Until the sparkling separates, you must be a pampered city noble,~ he teased, for all he was serious about it. ~All strains go to the medic.~

Jazz wasn't particularly pleased at the thought, but agreement slipped back over the bond. He wasn't about to do anything to endanger the sparkling that their very future rested on.

And he certainly wasn't going to object to being the center of Prowl's attention for a little while, very aware of how rare it was going to happen.

"Very well, you may both go," Keepsafe told them, unplugging from Prowl so he could get up. "Jazz, I will see you every six orns to check on the new spark and any progress on the protoform."


	9. Gifts

The quarters still felt excessive to Jazz, even after having been moved in for several orns. He knew they were designed as they were to accommodate the Heir and acknowledge his status, but they were far more elaborate than Jazz was used to, and done up to Prowl's taste, which in public places was a bit heavy with battlefield trophies, but in the more private areas it was very much classic Praxian with clean lines, crystal everywhere and fine sculpture depicting dance, love and everything that Prowl and his House fought hard to protect for the other citizens.

He paused, studying a wall hanging of organic fibers woven to display the historic battle that had earned the House of the Shining Sun its status as the premier military force of Praxus and well-used by many a Prime. While he really was looking at it closely, the purpose of his investigation was to cover the small twinges of nervousness running through him.

It didn't help in the least.

"Talk to me," Prowl's voice was soft as he stepped up to Jazz and wrapped his arms around him. The words were now traditional when Prowl knew something was up and wanted to know what.

For a moment Jazz just leaned back against Prowl, finding comfort in the warm frame and welcome field that was his mate. He turned his helm to nuzzle at Prowl's cheek then sighed softly. "I have something for you."

With that he slipped from Prowl's arms and reached into his subspace, pulling out a small object and looking at it for a moment before presenting it to Prowl. "It took me a little longer to finish than I had planned." He explained quietly. "I meant to have it done our bonding night..."

The item itself was small, composed of stone and crystal and clearly worn by many hands over long time.

"Something given to you by someone important," Prowl smiled warmly as he leaned in to kiss his mate, the bond awash with _respect-appreciation-thanks_.

"From one of my mentors, given to him by his mentor." Jazz explained, pleased that Prowl had noticed and seemed to appreciate the gift. There was more, but he was determined to let his mate discover it on his own.

"A puzzle box?" Prowl asked as he gently picked the square up from his mate's hands, though he was sure he knew what he was looking at.

Jazz nodded, the object having been given to him as older mechling and which had promptly frustrated him for orns. He doubted it would be much of a challenge for his tactically oriented mate, but hopefully Prowl would appreciate the thought and intent.

Prowl actually smiled as he studied it, a flicker of delight crossing the bond. With a chaste kiss he drew Jazz towards the gaming table set up in the berthroom. Unlike the games he could easily afford and were favored by many nobles, he still preferred to play with the physical sets he had brought with him on that first evening with Jazz.

With the bond strong and kept unusually open, Jazz could now _feel_ Prowl's appreciation for the crafting that went into this set, and the others he had, every time he handled a piece. He could also feel how soothing it was for his mate to play. It was just challenging enough for his tactical programs to be interested and active, but not so challenging he had to put his full focus to it.

No doubt the puzzle box would be studied and worked on while they played.

"I do have a surprise, a gift of sorts for you," Prowl said as they sat down and set out the board. "It will not arrive for several orns, however."

Surprise and curiosity flared on Jazz's end as he settled on his side of the table. "You didn't have to."

It was custom for the mecha joining the House to present their bonded with a small, personal bonding gift, but nothing was usually expected the other way.

"I am aware of that," Prowl smiled, teasing flickers of hope and excitement over his gift welling up. "I wished to. I believe Metronome also arranged for a gift, though hers is more of a preemptive peace offering."

Figuring that Prowl wasn't going to ruin the surprise by telling him what he had planned, Jazz focused on the second half of bonded's words. "A peace offering? For what?"

"Until she knows for sure, the assumption is that she will be bonded to me within orns of my creator extinguishing. With our bond so new, it can be a very delicate position for her to be in. I believe she is trying to make a point that she is not a threat."

Jazz attention shifted to solely focus on Prowl, game and gifts forgotten for the moment. "Will you take her as a second bonded?"

"No. One of my brothers, Kriemahni, a warrior, likes her a great deal," Prowl smiled warmly. "It came up at breakfast once. It is agreeable to her House for her to bond to one of my siblings as long as she is their first bonded, which would be the case. I know it is what they hope for, and it is the intention. However, it was and will be a political union. Her House can change their mind at any point until she is bonded to my brother. Even if they do not, it is not a bad thing to have the Lord's first mate look favorably on you."

Jazz nodded, attention shifting back to the game. "She doesn't need to worry, even if they do change their mind."

While the idea of sharing Prowl was not appealing to Jazz, especially in his current state, it was not Metronome who would end up bearing the brunt of Jazz's displeasure.

"I know," Prowl said with a warm wash of affection and thanks across the bond. "I have no desire to bond again soon, and never to one you object to."

Sincere thanks for yet another concession that Prowl was in no way obligated to make was sent, Jazz's spark warming at the consideration. Even knowing it may not always be Prowl's choice, the very fact that he intended to try meant the world to Jazz right now.

Farther into the game Jazz found his normal focus waning as his attention began to wander, one hand coming up to rest over his spark absent mindedly.

"Jazz?" Prowl's focus snapped instantly to his mate, physically and through the bond.

The other mech jumped slightly, then shook his helm. "It's nothing, I'm fine." Across the bond with the reassurance was the feeling that other than being a little more tired than normal Jazz really was fine. Without a pause Prowl brought a cube of energon out of subspace and offered it to his mate.

"Was wondering though," Jazz continued, hand still over his spark, "if you care what it is...mech or femme."

Prowl cocked his helm and gave the question full consideration. "I can't say that I do," he eventually decided. "Both make fine warriors and politicians. As long as it is smart and strong, it will serve the House well."

Thoroughly satisfied with the answer on several levels Jazz accepted the offered energon, taking a couple of sips before setting it aside. By the time the game was over he would likely have consumed the whole thing, the first side effect of his carry they had noticed.

"What are your hopes for it?" Prowl asked as he made a move.

"Strong, healthy, and acceptable." Jazz responded instantly, pausing as he was distracted by processing his mate's move and coming up with a counter, or at least some way around it.

Prowl smiled in approval of those priorities. "A warrior or political?"

"I would like it to be warrior, but I will be pleased with whichever path the sparkling's nature takes it." Jazz said firmly. He has seen the results of mecha forced down paths that did not blend well with their natures. Some adapted, others did not fare so well, and already he knew he would fight any attempt to force that on the budding spark he carried.

A soft hum of agreement was both verbal and across the bond. "I will need several politicals to help run the House. It does not need to be this first one. This House has a long, strong history of favoring talent over sparking order or even heritage, to a point."

Which was probably one of the main reasons the House was so strong and had held on to its position of importance for so long. The House of Shining Sun, Jazz was learning, respected tradition, but they did not follow it so blindly that they hurt themselves in the process. They had been founded by a mech that valued skill and talent over status and his House had never forgotten it.

Abruptly Prowl's attention shifted focus to the puzzle box. He picked it up and began to work it, giving only the most passing attention to the game.

Amused by the shift, Jazz took his time sorting out his next move, working through several different scenarios with care before he finally selected a route he hadn't tried before.

Making his move he settled back to see what Prowl would make of the puzzle box. His mate made a move on the board without seeming to think about it, and Jazz spotted immediately that it wasn't the best move possible. His gift had _that_ much of Prowl's attention.

Pleased, and secretly hoping that Prowl would approve of the rest of the gift as well, Jazz let his attention focus on the game. It was not often that he was given any sort of advantage when they played, and he was determined to make the most of this one for as long as it lasted.

It took him longer than normal to settle on a move, having Prowl play out of character was an additional factor Jazz was not used to working with, but when he did he decided it was going to be very interesting to see how Prowl handled the change in strategy.

His mate paused for a bare nanoklik, then made a move and quickly finished the puzzle box, opening it to reveal a small piece of crystal carved into the Shining Sun House crest.

Prowl studied the object for a lingering moment, then carefully lifted it out of its padding to examine it further. Amazement filtered though the bond.

"You carved this," Prowl focused on his mate, openly amazed.

"I-yes." Jazz admitted, desperately hoping Prowl was pleased with the small offering. The chunk of crystal had started life as part of one of the trees they had recharged in during the hunting trip. Jazz had harvested it, not quite sure what he was going to do until inspiration had struck and it had started to take shape as the House crest.

While clearly not the work of a professional artist, it had been crafted with care and an optic to detail, as well as a deep hope the intended recipient would like it.

"You have a fine talent," Prowl smiled, a wash of affection and support for nurturing that talent flowing across the bond.

Jazz smiled, clearly pleased that Prowl was pleased. "I'm glad you like it."

"I do," Prowl said as he considered the object and the options for display. It was on a magnet, so it could be worn on its own or as a cloak attachment, but that also meant it could be placed on the wall. "I believe this would look good above the berthroom control panel."

Jazz stopped in the middle of his move and stared, flattered that Prowl would be willing to use it as a part of the decor. "I think it will work well."

He placed the piece for his next move before refocusing on Prowl. "So do I get a hint as to what is coming?" Jazz prodded gently, Prowl's excitement across the bond when he had referenced it piquing Jazz's curiosity.

"From me, or Metronome?" Prowl teased as he set the carving in the puzzle box off to the side while they played.

"Yours." Jazz shot back. "I trust you would have warned me about hers if it was anything that I might not like."

"Oh, I'm quite sure you will like hers," Prowl smiled a little more, the teasing tickle over the bond increasing. "I'll give you one hint, no more, on mine. It is the _physical thing_ you have wanted most since coming here."

Jazz stopped, pondering this and staring at Prowl. He prodded at the tickling, knowing if Prowl said one hint that was all he was going to get, but still looking for anything else that might give him a clue. "Since I came?"

"Yes, since your first arrival in Praxus," Prowl confirmed.

Jazz growled softly, frustrated as he failed to come up with something that he had wanted since had arrived, beside a secure anchor in this new life, an anchor he had found in the love of the mech currently seated across from him.

Resigning himself to being surprised, and acting far more annoyed about it than he really was, Jazz made his next move and took another drink of the energon at his side, the cube already more than half gone. It was finished and Jazz started on a second when he conceded the game.

"Would you like to see what Metronome acquired for you?" Prowl asked.

"If it is ready and she wishes it to be given. There is no rush." Jazz responded easily. "She has been kind to me since I arrived, and not just because she believes it to be in her best interest to be in my good graces." Jazz added softly as his gaze met Prowl's. The young mech was very good at figuring out when someone had an ulterior motive for their actions, and while the young femme had defiantly been feeling him out during their first few encounters, their time together had quickly shifted to a true enjoyment of the other's company.

"It has been ready since our bonding ceremony," Prowl smiled and stood, offering a hand to his mate. "It has only waited for a good time to show you."

Now very curious, Jazz took the offered hand, fingers weaving with Prowl's. "Then I should very much like to see, so that I may thank her."

Prowl nodded and sent a message to Metronome requesting her presence so Jazz could be presented his gift as he led his mate out of the main house and towards the outer edge of the compound where many of the small, private gardens were.

Jazz's curiosity grew the farther they traveled farther from the main house, trickling across the bond to brush against Prowl.

"Here." Prowl pointed out a garden well away from the central House and many of its accompanying structures.

It took Jazz a moment to register what Prowl was referring to, but once it sunk in a wave of surprised wonder flashed across the bond. Delight followed as Jazz left his bonded side to inspect the small garden.

The area was recently renovated, many of the landscape flora young and still growing, though Jazz was willing to attribute the signs of stress they were displaying to a recent move. Several metacycles more would see them settled, and then he was sure they would flourish.

The entire set-up was a far cry from many of the Praxian gardens that Jazz had encountered since his move, everything from the landscaping components to the arrangement meant to imitate the nature and pattern of the wild that Jazz loved, and not the ordered, sculpted elegance that seemed to be the style here in Praxus.

Jazz's excitement only grew as he discovered several of the hardier native varieties of crystal foliage from his origin providence. "It's wonderful." He whispered, finally tearing his attention from a creeper to focus back on his bonded. "And Metronome did this?"

"Yes, Lord Jazz," her soft voice was warm with thanks and a bit of relief. "Lord Prowl assisted in telling me of your interests. I arranged the rest. I am pleased you are happy with this space. All know that it is _your_ private garden. No one else will come to it without specific need of you unless you invite them."

At the voice Jazz's attention shifted to the young femme, offering a smile meant to dispel the lingering flickers of worry in her optics that he understood all too well. "Thank you." He said, tone warm and sincere, matching the field that reached out to brush very lightly against her own. "I will treasure it, and enjoy it often."

"Thank you, that would please me greatly," she smiled warmly in return, the honesty of her words clear. 


	10. Proving Heritage

"Are you ready?" Prowl drew his carrying mate against him for a gentle kiss. Merging before witness, even a High Priest of Primus, was never a comfortable thing.

"As I'll ever be." Jazz sighed, nuzzling at Prowl as the kiss ended. He understood the _why_ of what they had to do, but it still didn't make it something he _wanted_ to do.

The semi-public merge served many purposes. It was confirmation before a witness of Primus of their bond, confirmation that the sparkling Jazz carried was indeed sired by Prowl and therefore eligible to be named Heir to the House, and it would provide a blessing on the sparkling and the carrier so that the sparkling would separate strong and healthy.

Jazz checked the time and stole another kiss. "We need to be leaving soon if we don't want to keep the priest waiting."

"We have time for you to see my gift first," Prowl smiled and kissed Jazz's forehelm. "It just arrived."

Excitement flared across the bond, Jazz having grown more curious over the span of the few orns as Prowl had teased him with the impending gift. "Yes!" Jazz was willing to even be a little late to the temple for this.

Prowl chuckled and drew him towards the entry room of their suite. "Turn off your optics."

Jazz obeyed, fully trusting Prowl as he powered down his optics, visor going dark. The rest of his senses flared in reaction to the loss of vision, field reaching out to latch on to his mate and his audio senses sharpening to compensate as he was led with gentle care through the door.

Half way across the room Jazz felt Prowl stop, then his hand on a shoulder kept Jazz where he was as Prowl walked behind him to embrace him.

"You can turn your optics on now," Prowl purred in Jazz audio, his field rich with excitement.

There was a brief flicker as Jazz's vision returned, and then a flare of utter disbelief and pure joy across the bond as Jazz started to tremble in Prowl's arms at the sight before him. "Steelplate!"

"I requested he come to my employ, as your personal servant and caretaker of our sparklings," Prowl smiled and kissed the side of Jazz helm. "When we bonded I understood what he meant to you."

Jazz was torn between turning and kissing his mate senseless and pulling free and launching himself across the room to greet his mentor as his spark sang with joy. Prowl help him decide with a gentle push into Steelplate's welcoming arms. Jazz fell into the welcoming embrace, strong arms catching and cradling him easily as the elder mech smiled down at the handsome adult that had once been his charge with pride.

"My lord Jazz." The deep rumbling voice was so full of parental affection the formal words lost all of their stiffness as Steelplate set Jazz back on his pedes for a better look. "I was very glad I had not accepted the position as young Sailsong's caretaker when Lord Prowl contacted me."

Jazz had to smile at the mention of his brother's youngest creation, the sparkling's interrupted attempt to attach herself to Jazz's leg at the bonding ceremony still a private source of amusement. "I am very glad you accepted the position here." Jazz answered, his field touching the long familiar one of his old guardian with joy as _thanks-joy-disbelief_ continued to flow in waves across the bond Jazz shared with his mate.

Prowl could only smile at the scene, and especially at the emotions flowing from the bond. "There will be plenty of time for a full reunion when we return," he reached out to place a hand on Jazz's shoulder before looking at Steelplate. "Has Softlight shown you to your quarters?"

"Yes, Lord Prowl," Steelplate inclined his helm smoothly. "Your slaves have been most helpful."

"Good," Prowl accepted the statement for the truth. It was no less than he expected of the pair. "Jazz will have time to catch up with you when we return."

With a final squeeze of his mentor's hand Jazz stepped back, acknowledging their need to leave but promising that he would find the time to talk with the elder mech when they returned.

He reached up to catch's Prowl's hand, his willingness to go present in the bond now. A gentle, chaste kiss was delivered before Prowl straightened and the commanding aura he put on in public settled on him.

The drive to the temple where they had been bonded was a short one with little traffic. Once again Jazz was grateful that the guards that were always present when either of them left the compound were content to give them space. They were there, but they weren't in his personal space. It made adjusting the fact that he was likely going to have an escort for the rest of his functioning easier to deal with.

The temple itself was quiet that morning as well, with a few other mecha visiting for their own personal reasons and the temple staff and servants of Primus going about their routine with the smoothness of vorns of familiarity.

The pair transformed and made their way across the courtyard and up the stairs of the main temple complex to find the Barasi of Praxus.

Prowl's field brushed against his, offering support and reassurance even as the bond told Jazz just as clearly that his mate was as uneasy about this as he was. Interfacing in front of a stranger was ... weird. Slightly more familiar to Prowl, but he had always been overcharged and celebrating those times.

The return touch was resigned to the necessity and only accepting of it because of the circumstances. It was only in front of the priest and only with his bonded, and since Jazz intended to forget about their audience as quickly as possible by losing himself in Prowl and the merge, he wasn't as disturbed about the entire ordeal as he might have been otherwise.

"Lord Prowl, Lord Jazz." The pair were approached by a final stage mechling, his frame and demeanor marking him as an clericus, a priest-in-training, who nodded respectfully once he was sure he had their attention. "If you would follow me please?"

Prowl made a fractional cant of his wings on acknowledgment and followed the youth through the temple to a crystalline room at the center of the temple. The shape was that of a spark chamber, the floor that supported the alter was completely transparent, giving the sensation of floating in the center of a giant spark chamber.

"Greetings, children of Primus," a soft, resonant and warmly welcoming voice greeted them before they spotted the rich red Praxian femme that was the Barasi of Praxus. "Come forward so we may begin the blessing."

Jazz's fingers twisted tighter with Prowl's, uneasy for no reason that he could identify as the clericus vanished, leaving them to make their way before the Barasi in the center of the room. It was a strange sensation to have your pedes tell you you were firmly on the ground and your optics and sensors telling you you were floating in the middle of a giant spark chamber.

The tall, slender Praxian smiled warmly at the couple and placed a hand lightly on each of their chest plates, over their sparks. "I understand you are here to receive a blessing for your creation that it may serve your House as Lord Prowl's heir-apparent."

"Yes, Barasi," Prowl responded with a deep dip of his wings.

"All that is required is that you merge on the alter," she said gently, long accustomed to the nerves of those who came to this room. "You are welcome to anything else that makes you comfortable."

Jazz steadied himself, shivering a bit at the touch of her hand over his spark, and the small surge of his spark in his chest in response. He bowed his head, reaching out to Prowl. ~Just need you.~

~As I only need you,~ Prowl brushed his mate's spark with a wave of support, but also with a sense of what he intended to do to warm up for the merge.

Her hands fell away with a smile and she stepped back, intent on disappearing from the couple's awareness.

Prowl turned to Jazz and kissed him gently, chaste in the first contact, as he drew the other mech towards the barely visible berth-sized alter.

His mate followed along willingly; eager to lose himself in the merge and Prowl and forget the odd place they found themselves in. He knew Prowl felt much the same despite the easy way the Praxian touched and guided him.

~Love you both,~ Prowl whispered over the bond as he deepened the kiss.

Jazz purred into the kiss, already losing himself in the touches and the love and affection as they reached the alter.

~Our creations will be perfect for their place in existence,~ Prowl added, gently kneeling on the alter and drawing Jazz against him. His hands stroked down his mate's sides and back, seeking to make this more than a perfunctory performance. Though he shielded it from Jazz to a great extent, he knew they would be here many times and did not want Jazz to dread it. It would make kindling the next that much more difficult.

His mate's trust in him was complete, optics not straying from Prowl's face as black hands reached around to trace along Prowl's sides and find the Praxian's wings. ~Of course they will. They will be ours.~

Prowl smiled and kissed his way up to Jazz's visor, his lip plates a feather light touch and his moans vibrating the sensitive glass.

The sensation left Jazz gasping, moaning softly as his visor grew dim and he focused on the pleasure. Reservation faded, replaced with willingness and want of the touch of Prowl's spark against his own.

With a shiver of anticipation Prowl sent the command to part his this chest armor and open his spark chamber, his mate's mirroring the move almost in time with Prowl. This was something familiar and enjoyed- sought after, savored and cherished.

It was almost a need for Jazz, to feel Prowl on that level, and this early in their bonding still to reaffirm that connection between them. The first contact of their searching leaders drew moans of pleasure from them, but it was a pale expression of the pleasure and relief the pair felt as the intimate connection bloomed across their awareness.

~Love you,~ Prowl shuddered and pulled Jazz closer, forcing their coronas together.

Jazz keened softly, not that either of them were really able to hear it as their sparks touched, met, and merged. Jazz's love of his mate, his thankfulness for everything that Prowl did and was, blossomed across the connection.

The thanks for Prowl's gift, thanks that Jazz could not yet put into words, flared bright and true against Prowl's spark. The merge, the reason for it, and Jazz's hope for the sparkling he carried.

Around those emotions were Prowl's embrace and welcoming of them. The Praxian's hope for the sparkling, both this one specifically and for one they had in general. His gratitude that Jazz had been reasonable about his fate, his hope that they would build the kind of relationship that Prowl's creators had ... and that Jazz's brother's family seemed to have. His pleasure at how much Jazz appreciated his gifts. His thanks that even if Metronome became his bonded that Jazz would not take a disliking to her for things she could not control.

Awareness of their location faded to a hazy thought, the merge consuming them both with everything that it needed to be. A confirmation of what they were, a sharing of joy, new love, and the strong foundation of a functioning together.

Slowly it spiraled beyond word and conscious thought, shifting into the realm of feeling and oneness that marked a deep merge, building into overload that was pure bliss.

* * *

Prowl's personal slaves studied the new arrival silently as they worked, evaluating the new addition to their lives and sending ripples through their routine once more. They had received few orders regarding the new mech, mostly consisting of seeing that he was settled in and taken care of. Their master had indicted that the new mech was to serve their master's new bonded and was a free mecha, but they were still watching him to decide if he was any threat to their position.

Silent discussion took place across the bond between them, optics flickering subtly in Steelplate's direction as they went about their normal work maintaining Prowl's quarters in silence and the older mech explored their home now that he had put his few belongings in one of the spare servant quarters attached to Prowl's suite.

"What are you duties for Lord Prowl?" Steelplate still managed to startle them when he came up while they were scrubbing the grand shower in the lavish washrack, a room that was far more indulgent and advanced than anything else in the Lord Heir's suite.

Both mech's paused at being addressed, though it was Surestrike who answered for them both, his optics not quite meeting Steelplate's. "Whatever our master demands of us, sir. We maintain his personal quarters and possessions, see to his person, attend to his needs when he travels, by priority. We also run errands and service him in the berth, when he requires."

"How did you come to be his?" Steelplate asked, his tone even, giving little away of what he thought of the use of slaves in the berth.

Only an experienced optic would have caught the small ripple that passed through Surestrike, the barest hint of a warrior's shame even after all these centuries of service and having come to accept his position in life.

It was Softlight who answered for his mate this time. "Conqueror's Law. Lord Prowl led the campaign where we were captured, and chose us from the those who had no one to speak for them to serve him."

"You must have impressed him," Steelplate spoke to Surestrike. "Of all the campaigns he's led and all the prisoners he has had a right to, he has only kept you and your mate."

The warrior slave nodded his helm in acknowledgement of the compliment being given. "It was the Lord's first campaign. He has brought others back as well, but always for the service of the House. It was the mercy of Primus that he saw us that orn."

To Surestrike, who had known the House he served was in the wrong, bringing their own destruction upon themselves in their continued defiance of the Prime, his freedom had been a small price for the continued functioning of his mate and the new spark that Softlight had been carrying at the time.

A soft hum of understanding greeted the statement. "You do not need to stop your work to speak to me," he told the pair gently but with the firmness of an order. He smiled slightly at them. "I'm not that type."

A flicker of relief passed between the two, Softlight falling back into cleaning far faster than his mate, who optics rose briefly to meet Steelplate's, just testing and clearly curious. 

A brief nudge from his mate across the bond distracted him, and he began to scrub again. "Our capture was centuries ago. We have served Lord Prowl ever since." He supplied as he worked.

"Has he been kind to your creations?" Steelplate asked, taking in the washrack that was larger than his entire suite.

A quiet sound escaped Softlight, a mixture of sorrow and pride. "Our creation is a warrior of the House, strong and true in his service to his Lord."

"I am pleased to hear that," Steelplate said honestly. "Has Lord Jazz adapted to having slaves to serve him yet?"

The pair actually took a moment to consider that. "He did not seem surprised by our position or our service." Surestrike finally concluded.

"He has been little extra work, and always fair and kind." Softlight added as he finished the floor and moved to the back wall of the washrack. The small orange mech seemed to seriously consider his next words before speaking. "He did seem...unaccustomed...to being waited on."

"He is," Steelplate actually chuckled softly. "We come from a small House that did not have the servants to spare. He grew up to be quite self sufficient, much like his sire ... and I have gathered Lord Prowl is more often than not."

The bonded pair hummed softly in agreement as they made quick work finishing up the washrack and gathered their supplies to move on to their next task.

The glanced at each other before Surestrike focused on Steelplate, slowly growing more comfortable in the new mech's presence. "We had assumed that we would be seeing to our masters bonded's needs as well..."

"You likely will, at least what he decides not to do himself," Steelplate smiled as he casually followed to continue the conversation without disturbing their duties too much. "My specialty is with sparklings; a guardian, caretaker and early warrior training. It is what I did for Lord Jazz. I'm looking forward to doing the same for his creations as well."

The confirmation of what they had been told initially was a relief the pair, confirmation that Steelplate had no intention of encroaching on their duties. It also meant that Steelplate was likely not going anywhere any time soon, from what the slaves knew of their master's desires.

"You will be busy, and your services required often, in this House." Softlight commented as he busied himself straightening things down to the smallest detail to fit Prowl's specifications. "Our master favors the idea of a large family."

Steelplate actually _purred_ at the thought. "So I have heard," he said. "I look forward to the challenge. Were you expecting to care for the sparklings?" he suddenly asked.

Surestrike shrugged. "We have always seen to our lord's personal matters. We had assumed that one day it would extend to caring for his creations as well."

"But guardian caretakers are not as effective if the creators do not trust them. It would seem better to have someone the lord's first bonded was comfortable with." Softlight commented, swiftly moving from familiar task to familiar task, never getting in the way of his mate as they worked.

"Perhaps when the lord takes another bonded, we will be called to serve." Surestrike agreed.

"Perhaps," Steelplate smiled. "Not that I would object to you enjoying any sparklings I care for, as long as the Lords do not object."

There was a muted ripple of hope in the pair's fields at the offer. "It will be nice to have a little one running around."

"That it will be," Steelplate agreed. "Have you asked to have another sparkling?"

Softlight shook his helm quickly in denial. "I can't do that again."

Steelplate nodded his understanding. "I don't know if I could do it once, even if I didn't have a choice," he admitted. "That takes a strength I don't have. Lord Prowl is kind that he doesn't demand you breed for the House."

They both shuddered at the thought, knowing how right Steelplate was, especially with how their only sparkling had turned out, growing into a well respected young warrior of the House. Even if they had been free members of the House they would have been encouraged to have more. As slaves, it was well within their master's rights to demand they do so.

The very fact that Prowl made no hint he expected another sparkling from them was one of the reasons they were so possessive of their position as the Lord Heir's personal slaves. Prowl was good to them in ways few masters would be, and they both feared what might happen if they ever lost his favor.

"Did I hear correctly, that the new spark has been confirmed?" Steelplate asked. He was sure it had been, but it was a safe and happy topic if Jazz's state was anything to go by. His former charge had been thrilled to see him, but he had also been happy in a way Steelplate was unaccustomed to even before that. Prowl seemed to not only be good to Jazz, but for him as well. Steelplate couldn't be happier for his former charge.

Both mech's moods lightened at the change in topic. "Yes. Confirmed by the House medic the orn their bonding metacycle was over and announced to the family that first decaorn. Though it would be very safe to assume that the Lord of the House knew well before then. They were on their way to the temple of Primus when you arrived."

"Then the House will be celebrating soon," Steelplate smiled warmly. "Has the nursery been set up yet?"

Softlight nodded, motioning to a door to the rear of the suite. "That is our next project, if you would like to look."

"I would," Steelplate nodded, relaxing into even smaller talk about the local weather, the city and the grounds as the pair worked.


	11. First Contact

Jazz collapsed back on the berth, the aftermath of overload still dancing over his plating and his systems working to cool his frame, valve still rippling around the thick spike that filled him and added more of _Prowl_ to the sparkling protoform he was beginning to build. He tilted his head, accepting the gentle, lazy kiss from his mate before Prowl pulled out and settled on the berth beside his bonded.

For several kliks they simply stayed like that, fields blended and merged, sharing the warm comfort that was being in the other's presence. Then Prowl shifted, producing a stashed cube of energon and pointedly offered it to his mate, ever attentive to his bonded's needs. The younger mech accepted it with a brush of thanks, manouvering to lean against his mate, the emotion over the open bond shifting to one of contemplative reflection as he refueled.

"Have you thought of any designations for our first creation?" Prowl asked softly, wrapping his arms around Jazz's still-small waist to draw him close.

"A little bit." Jazz replied, easy and relaxed in Prowl's arms. "Still seems a little early though, not knowing if it's mech or femme, or anything about _who_ it is going to be."

"True," Prowl agreed, nuzzling him affectionately. "Though we do know it will be _quite_ active."

Jazz grunted softly in agreement, the cube of energon in his hand an indication of just how active the newspark already was, placing heavy demands on its carriers energy levels as it gained mass and strength.

"Keepsafe said the protoform is starting to form." Jazz commented, thinking back to the check-up early that orn, and the new set of warnings that had come with it. More slowing down as his frame shifted and changed to accommodate the growing physical mass it was constructing. The different but just as intense demands that were going to be made of him; more solid food, more supplements, more recharge and much more energon.

She'd also, gently, warned him to refuse Prowl's interfacing advances if he was too low on energy or otherwise not feeling up for it. It was a warning Jazz had a difficult time believing was necessary. Prowl never pushed him, and he was always in the mood.

"Good," Prowl rumbled, his excitement at the stage beginning resonating through every part of him and into Jazz. "I know it has been annoying for you, but it will be well worth it."

"I know." Jazz nuzzled at him affectionately, infected by his mate's excitement. "What about you? Have you been thinking of what to call our creation?"

"A few, of course," Prowl chuckled at the light jab at his own obsessive detailed planning over everything. "Depending on build and probable function."

"And I going to have to tease these out of you as well?" Jazz pushed playfully, content as the energon hit his tanks and started fueling his system once more. "Skysong."

"I do like it," Prowl nuzzled him. "Quickstrike, Windsong, Tandem, Elegance."

"Windsong." Jazz repeated the designation, slowly testing it. He liked it...then the pattern of his field shifted again, almost hesitant as he offered another possibility. "Bladesong?"

"Bladesong?" Prowl repeated, curious at his mate's hesitance.

"For your creator." Jazz offered softly, by way of explanation.

Prowl hummed pleasantly and nuzzled him, a flicker of _honor-thanks_ drifting across his field. "And the '-song'?"

"My carrier's designation was Sparksong." Jazz said quietly, the name invoking half remembered images and hazy emotions of a creator he had known for a very short time.

"I like it," Prowl smiled and kissed the side of Jazz's helm.

Against Jazz's spark a pulse of approval came, only it wasn't from Prowl. For a moment Jazz lay there, trying to pinpoint the source, only for _wonder-awe-surprise_ to flare across the bond.

"Think the discussion's over." He commented, voice a touch shaky.

Prowl made a curious sound, the bond pulsing with his exploration.

"She likes that one." Jazz said, helm falling to lean on Prowl's shoulder as he nudged his mate in the direction of the _feeling_.

Though it was only the barest whisper of a sensation, one felt through Jazz rather than on its own, Prowl smiled and shivered in delight. "Then Bladesong it is," he tipped Jazz's helm back to kiss him soundly, the bond flooding with his _love-adoration-respect_.

Jazz enjoyed the kiss, drawing it out until they broke apart and he snuggled against his mate, still investigating that hint of awareness against his spark now, and the wonder he felt at it.

Prowl gave him the time, enjoying simply holding his mate close and the pure joy of Jazz's _happiness_ at this new stage of the life they were creating together.

~Thank you, my love,~ Prowl whispered across the bond. ~For giving _us_ and _this_ a chance.~

Jazz's hand reached out, seeking and finding Prowl's to weave their fingers together as love poured across the bond for Prowl and their creation.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Jazz moved air through his vents slowly, controlled, as he slid smoothly from motion to motion. He was no longer able to spar or do any sort of anything strenuous or taxing. Keepsafe had approved the slow exercise on the grounds they provided more benefit than risk and only after getting Jazz's word that he would stop at the first sign that he was overdoing _anything_.

The additional failsafe of Jazz never really being alone meant that he could practice as he pleased, and the young mech figured he might as well practice while he could.

"You're slipping again." A gentle voice commented from the corner of the room, Steelplate's red optics fixed firmly on the frame of his once again charge. With the meeting that Prowl had to attend this afternoon not calling for the presence of his carrying bonded, it had fallen to the guardian mech to be Jazz's 'keeper', a task the large mech did not mind in the least.

He watched as Jazz caught the mistake and corrected the form, going still for a moment as he re-centered himself mentally and once more compensated for some adjustment in the internal distribution of his frame weight. Even this was good practice for the battlefield, where frame alterations often occurred at the worst time and not with the consent of the one suffering the alteration. Re-balanced, the young mech finished the sequence admirably, falling into a rest position and a short meditation before rising.

Steelplate started to stand, intending to fetch Jazz's energon, only to have the younger mech move faster. "I'll get it."

The large mech growled, though the sound carried no real irritation as he watched his charge refuel. "What did Keepsafe say the last time you saw her?"

"That the spark is strong and healthy, and that my frame's finished rearranging to accommodate the basis of the protoform already starting." Jazz replied, the small note of pride and excitement enough to bring a small smile to his mentor's features and encourage that line of conversation.

"And have the two of you started discussing designations?"

"Bladesong." The nod of approval was enough that Jazz continued, visor glowing playfully. "And she approves."

"She...?" It took only a moment for that to actually register, Steelplate honestly surprised but truly delighted. "You can already feel her."

Jazz nodded again, and Steelplate allowed his attention to wander a moment as he processed all the information and compared it to his past experience as a guardian, only to have it focus and sharpen as Jazz swayed and his EM field dipped in intensity. "Are you feeling all right?"

The smaller grounder caught himself, focusing after a moments effort and offering a reassuring smile as he checked his systems. "I think so. "

His energy levels weren't low enough he should be reacting like that, and certainly nowhere close too critical. Still, he drank a long draught of the energon. "This should help."

Steelplate paused, giving him a moment until he swayed dangerously again. Quick, strong hands reached out to steady him. ::Keepsafe, I am concerned for Lord Jazz. He is very unsteady and energon is not helping.::

::I will be right there,:: the House healer replied, pinging him for their location.

"Keepsafe will be here shortly," Steelplate said quietly, his tone and field soothing as well as insistent as he helped Jazz lay on a couch in the common room.

Jazz shook his helm, as though that would help for some reason. He couldn't understand why he felt so weak. "Thank you." he murmured, weak field grateful for the support his mentor was offering. He was also grateful for the privacy of his quarters.

~Jazz?~ Prowl's presence in his spark was at a level that meant his full attention was on the bond.

~A little shaky, love.~ Jazz soothed him, attention turning inward as he answered his bonded. ~Keepsafe is already on her way. Steelplate is with me.~

~I am coming as well,~ Prowl said firmly. ~You should not be weak. We are doing everything correctly.~

~I was exercising. I probably just waited too long to refuel.~ Jazz said, prodding a little as he tried to figure out if Prowl was finished with the meeting and if he should try to convince his mate that he was fine.

He was distracted from the connection as Steelplate moved, making way as Keepsafe arrived.

~You're a better carrier than that,~ Prowl pointed out, the sense of him drawing rapidly closer clear in the bond. ~You would not risk our sparkling over fueling.~

Keepsafe didn't say a thing as she knelt by Jazz. She simply plugged into his medical port and began running a deep diagnostic.

The vote of confidence was met with a warm wash of affection and thanks from Jazz as he checked to make sure that Keepsafe had complete access to his systems. At the mention of their creation he also spared some attention to the place where he often felt the newspark, and was met with the same strong sense that he come to identify as _her_.

He looked at the medic curiously when he felt her withdraw, but there was only a smile on her faceplates. "You have done nothing wrong, Lord Jazz." She paused at the sound of Prowl's powerful, high-performance engine racing towards them, then the sound of a transformation sequence as he stood up from his alt mode inside the room.

"You are smiling," Prowl observed as he took in the three mecha there.

"Your first creation is an Aerial," she smiled up at him and stood. "Lord Jazz has had such difficulties because his systems are not prepared to support one without additional supplements."

"An Aerial?" Prowl repeated, stunned by the news.

Jazz was just as stunned, reaching out to Prowl across the bond as he worked on processing that. ~My carrier was an Aerial...~

But Prowl's creators were both grounders, and Jazz knew he took strongly after his sire, an intentional agreement between his creators to try and prevent any of their creations from inheriting the weaknesses that had plagued Sparksong.

Finally he just gave up to focus on the now, hand rising to rest over his spark as Prowl's processors caught up and joy flooded the bond. "So what is wrong, and what do I need to do?"

"An Aerial's protoform is composed of very different materials than most grounders," Keepsafe smiled as Prowl moved to embrace his bonded, utter joy radiating from him. "They also tend to have larger sparks relative to their size, though no one is completely sure of why. The second is why you felt weak while it was only a small new spark. Now that construction has begun in earnest, the protoform construction protocols are leaching what little of the material an airframe needs from your systems and demanding far more than you can naturally provide. The solution is to add all the minerals an airframe will need into your diet. Some can be dissolved in your energon, but most will need to be consumed as a solid wafer, or at the very least, powdered and mixed into confections and other foodstuffs."

Jazz leaned against Prowl, basking in his mate's approval and joy as he processed all of that quickly. It didn't sound difficult, at least not any more difficult than carrying had already been for him, once Keepsafe worked out all that he needed.

"And that's all she needs?" Jazz asked, wanting to be sure.

"Yes," Keepsafe nodded, delighted with how the pair took the news. "You are doing well with energon, rest and your checkups, so the additional supplements are all you should need."

"Why was this not discovered sooner?" Prowl asked, disconcerted by the fact that his mate had to suffer first.

"It was not being looked for," she apologized with the simple truth. "Despite both of you having a heritage that includes Aerials, and Seekers for Lord Prowl, the odds of this one being an Aerial, especially one with a light airframe, were astronomical."

~So are we beating the odds?~ Jazz asked his mate, amused now that he had been assured that their creation was doing well.

~Very much so,~ Prowl agreed after his tactical computer ran the numbers. ~Even if we had been trying to encourage it to be an Aerial, the odds are against it.~

General amusement fluttered across the bond as Jazz turned his attention to Keepsafe for a moment. "Do you need me to come in for more tests?"

"I would like you to now," she nodded. "Once I am sure of the supplements you will need to bring you back up to condition, your regular appointments should be sufficient."

Jazz nodded in understanding. ~Do you need to return to what you were doing, or are you coming?~ He asked his mate.

Prowl nuzzled him and guided Jazz to his pedes, offering all the support his unsteady mate needed. "I am coming," he said firmly.

* * *

* * *

* * *

~Creator?~ A mental voice Jazz knew but didn't know caressed his processors from his spark as he rested while Prowl was working with Master Ziariace.

~Yes.~ Jazz responded instinctively, the urge nurture and protect that voice, that presence, as deep as any coding he possessed. Than it _really_ registered what he was hearing, and Jazz's entire frame began to tremble as surprise and joy flared across the bond.

~Bladesong?~ He tried, tone warm and welcome and very gentle.

~Yes?~ the voice responded, not completely sure that was her designation, but inclined to believe so.

For the moment Jazz pretty much gave up on words, focusing all of his attention inward on the presence, sending all of the love and delight and want he could at her. ~Creation.~ He murmured gently.

~Yes,~ that she was certain of, basking in his emotions directed at her and sending her happiness in reply. ~I ... like ... my ... _place-you-are-building-for-me_.~

~Jazz?~ Prowl nudged on their bond, certain something had happened with the new spark, but uncertain as to what.

~Moment.~ Jazz sent to Prowl, acknowledging his mate but leaving the bulk of his attention focused elsewhere.

It took Jazz a moment to translate the image-thought into something that he could understand and process before answering her. ~I am happy you like it.~ Under the words was layered all of the emotion to reinforce them on the level the new spark was more familiar with conversing. His joy at speaking with her. Gladness that she was finding the protoform, her new body, compatible. And his joy as he put it all together that she had moved from the protective safety of his own spark chamber to the new frame.

Satisfied that it was going to take her a moment to work through that Jazz shifted more of his attention back to his bondmate. ~She's migrated love. And apparently she is already very opinionated. She approves of her frame.~ Waves of affection, wonder, and amusement accompanied the communication back to Prowl.

A wash of _awe-pleasure_ came back instantly, then a warm wave of approval directed at Jazz, and amusement that their creation's first words included an opinion. ~It is good she likes her protoform.~

~Since it would be very problematic if she didn't, I agree.~ Jazz responded, thanks and the echoing amusement bouncing back. It was still a little shocking to everyone that Jazz was carrying an Aeriel- there had been a few rather dark questionings of the designation of Bladesong's creator again before they were firmly put down- but despite all of the additional stress it had created Jazz was rather proud of the fact.

~Are you done training?~ Jazz wasn't sure that Master Ziariace would forgive Prowl even this sort of distraction, and he didn't want to cause problems for later.

~Another joor,~ Prowl responded with an apology. ~This is wonderful news, love. We can celebrate when I return. Enjoy your first time with her.~

~That's sire?~ She asked, fairly sure of the identity even as she nudged the weaker bond she shared with Prowl that had flared with positive emotions.

~Yes,~ Jazz answered, sending a wave of affectionate approval over the bond between. ~He is happy too. But busy.~

She gave a contended hum and affectionate nuzzle across the bond, even as she tried to move the half built protoform, causing it to twist uncomfortably inside Jazz's abdominal cavity.

Jazz grunted softly, sighing to himself as he tried to settle more comfortably in his seat and resigning himself to the new discomfort. He had been warned about this as well. He was just grateful that she didn't have limbs to punch or kick with yet. That discomfort would be limited to the last metacycle.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Jazz settled in his seat, relaxing in the warmth of the sun on his plating. It felt good, helping to counter the strain carrying was starting to place on his physical frame. Being outside, in _his_ garden, with pleasant company, was doing wonders for his state of mind as well.

On one level it was frustrating to the young mech, who was used to being constantly active, up and about and doing. On another hand, sitting around and being able to think, even if it was being forced on him somewhat, was a new and not unpleasant experience.

Finally comfortable, his addressed his companion. "Thank you for coming out."

"It is my pleasure, Jazz," Metronome smiled over at him, her posture as flawless as her finish, yet her field, warm and relaxed, gave no doubt as to how much she was enjoying sitting in the sun in a private corner of the compound with someone she liked. "The protoform you are building must be fairly large. You are already showing."

Jazz sighed, hand running lightly over the abdominal plating that was starting to shift and change to make room for the protoform forming there. "Showing, yes. Starting to get clumsy and slow and awkward." The young mech grumbled, though there was no missing the deep love and affection in voice as he spoke.

"It is a small price to pay," she said wistfully, her optics caressing his form. "Perhaps one orn you can remind me it is worth it."

Curious gaze turned to rest on her, asking and offering to listen without demanding anything from her.

"I have not be able to carry for my Lord yet," she murmured, full of shame at the truth of it. "Yet we know it is not his spark since Coda was able to spark and carry Flashdrive, strong and healthy, only last vorn."

Jazz's field reached out in understanding and a small brush of sympathy. While the idea of carrying had been something he had dreaded, to others it was their dream and functioning, and if there was anything Jazz understood well it was having your hopes and dreams pulled out from under you.

"They have also been bonded for centuries." Jazz pointed out gently. "There's no reason to give up hope yet."

"I ... I hope to have more luck with my next bonded," she smiled shyly at him. "You are right. I am young. My spark is strong. Lords Bladedrift and Prowl have confirmed that I will bond again." She paused. "Please express my thanks to your bonded and how much I appreciate his efforts in presenting Kriemahni as a suitable bonded. No insult to Lord Prowl, yet I do like Kriemahni's company a great deal."

Jazz couldn't help but smile at her, the expression warm. "I shall make sure to do so. And I am happy for you. This can't be easy for someone with your background." he added softly, but completely sincere.

"No," she admitted very quietly. "I was created _for_ this alliance. Raised to be Lord Bladedrift's mate, a carrier for his heirs. That I have not kindled in all the vorns we have tried ... a less kind Lord would have nullified the alliance and sent me back."

"The Lord has plenty of heirs and a strong alliance in your House. He would lose more than he would gain by sending you away." Jazz considered her thoughtfully. "Did you ever want to be anything else?"

Bright blue optics cycled. "This is what I was meant to be," she said quite firmly. "I want to be a creator. I want to carry many sparklings and watch them grow to be strong Praxians. Iacon is lovely, but Praxus is _home_."

Jazz shifted his frame around so that he could look at her better. "What was it like, growing up with that being your purpose?"

She paused, seeming to study a well-tended and shaped dwarf crystal tree for a long moment, truly _thinking_ about the question and his frame of reference to the answer.

"I found it comforting to know my purpose and future from before I even separated. My carrier was so proud to be chosen to carry the future bonded to the Lord of the Shining Sun. My sire was pleased as well, or at least honored enough that it felt good. I was pampered in many ways. I was given the best education along side the Lord's creations. My upgrades were always of the finest quality by the best medics. Though I was not the Lord's creation, I received nearly as many benefits because of my status and the status of whom I was being raised to be with. I was even raised to favor the Praxian aesthetic, both physically and in art. I know their culture better than that of Iacon, where my creator's House is."

Jazz hummed softly as he processed all of that. "It is very strange to me." He admitted softly. "My functioning was not nearly as well defined, especially since by the time I separated it was confirmed that my elder brother would inherit the title."

Metronome nodded, humming thoughtfully. "If it is not too bold of me, may I ask why you never thought of bonding?"

"For a political alliance?" Jazz responded, wanting to be sure that he understood what she was asking before he answered the question.

"At all," she clarified demurely. "I remember you saying once that it was not something you had planned on."

Jazz nodded. "It was not that I never intended to bond, but it was something that I had only ever envisioned many centuries from now. Once it was discovered that I had an affinity for the martial arts and a warrior's coding my sire encouraged my interest and supported my training. The way of the noble class warrior had been the path of my functioning."

She considered that. "You must have made quite a powerful enemy to be entered into the matchmaker's files as a subservient mate, rather than what you were raised to be."

The young mech's helm tilted in a small nod of agreement. "My carrier returned to the Well not long after I separated. My sire's second bonded and I ... I was difficult." He finally concluded.

"Never a good thing to make an enemy of the ranking bonded," she murmured, her sympathy genuine. "Yet you seem to be happy with Prowl."

"I did not have high hopes when I came here." Jazz admitted, his field shifting into a feeling of true, warm affection for his bondmate without his realizing it as he thought about Prowl. "I had somewhat resigned myself to my fate. Prowl is nothing that I had expected, and nothing that I had feared."

"Primus was looking out for you," she smiled. "Prowl is a fine match for you."

"He is indeed." Jazz agreed softly, hand brushing over his spark and the small swell of the growing protoform, distracted by his own thoughts in the peace.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Jazz's fingers clutched rhythmically at the soft mesh berth cover under him, his gasps mixed with panting moans. As much as he _loved_ kissing Prowl as they interfaced, there was something intensely erotic about having his shoulders pressed to the berth by his mate's weight while his aft was in the air, getting pounded into. Their mingled fields meant he missed nothing of Prowl's reactions, and the panting moans next to his audial were enough to send shivers along his covered frame.

It was one of the few ways that was feasible to interface any more, with the growing protoform making everything he did more difficult and awkward, seemingly by the orn. While he mourned the variety in their interfacing, the ease of every orn activities and being able to recharge for more than a joor without being woken up by a shifting sparkling, every time he felt her through the bond, he knew it was worth it.

An up side was that his valve was even more sensitive, his systems _wanting_ the material input from his mate.

"So good," Prowl moaned against his audial, his field running hot with the building charge.

Jazz whined in response, valve rippling and squeezing around the spike at just how good it felt washed back through meshed fields and over the bond. "Close." He whimpered, already feeling the first warnings of overload in his system.

Prowl's panting became ragged, his processors losing control of his frame as the charge rushed through him, exploding across every system with a roar.

Jazz's cry of overload was loud and long as his hands clenched in the berth, charging leaping from his frame to Prowl's as one overload triggered another, pleasure echoing back and forth across the bond and gaining intensity as the energy peaked. The flood of Prowl's heavily charged transfluid into Jazz's valve pushed the intensity even higher, forcing him into a mild reboot as it crested and hit him with everything both of them had.

Jazz came back to full awareness feeling sated, tingling with pleasure and to the whispers of his mate claiming how good he was, how good it felt, how much he was loved.

Everything he needed and wanted as they shifted and he cuddled against his mate, everything he needed and wanted to hear being whispered in his audios and drifting across the open bond. 

~Love you.~ He murmured across the bond, content in a way he had never even imagined was possible.

A burst of warm affection came from Prowl, then an impatient nudge came from their creation along with an unhappy roll of the protoform inside Jazz.

~Are you _done_ yet?~ Bladesong grumbled at them.

Jazz buried his face in Prowl's shoulder and moaned very softly at the oddly sick feeling that spread through his frame with the motion, finally opening up the bond with his creation enough that feelings, emotions, and words could pass between them once more. ~Yes, brightspark. We're done.~

~Good.~ she sounded decidedly put-upon, causing Prowl to chuckle softly. ~My designation is Bladesinger, not Bladesong. How much longer until I can go outside?~

Jazz paused, amusement and surprise flowing over his bond with his mate at her declaration before he actually answered their creation. ~Two metacycles. A while yet.~

Bladesinger grumbled wordlessly at the answer, but otherwise accepted it. ~I want to fly.~

~Opinionated. She will be a strong leader if she learns to listen as well,~ Prowl chuckled to his mate. ~We will arrange for you to fly once you emerge and are strong enough to survive it,~ he told their creation firmly but with deep love and the same sensation of being willing to move the very planet and stars to keep his word.

Jazz couldn't help but smile at the pout he sensed underneath the acceptance. Acceptance that was only given because of the promise that she will eventually have what she wanted.

Slowly he shifted his frame to a better position, though one that still had him snuggled firmly against his mate's side. ~She'll be a good first creation. And a handful.~ Jazz suggested to his mate as affection spread across both bonds.

~Most strong warriors and skilled politicians are,~ Prowl purred, nuzzling him and gently stroking a hand over significantly repositioned abdominal plates.

~If you're done being mushy, construction is slowing,~ Bladesinger sent the expression of a glower at the pair, causing Prowl to laugh, deep and happily.

"We should feed you then, my love," he continued to chuckle even as he pinged Softlight to bring a cube and some of Jazz's special high-mineral cookies.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Jazz bit back a groan, squirming on the medical separation berth even though he knew it wouldn't help as yet another component moved and rearranged. While separation wasn't supposed to be terribly painful, it wasn't pleasant or comfortable by any means and draining to the point of exhaustion on the carrier. For weaker models, it was not uncommon for the carrier to slip into unconsciousness well before the sparkling was clear of their frame. Jazz had learned, abet as a slight, that to do so here was a shameful thing. Even among their true political creations and mates from outside the House, the strength and endurance to make it through the separation and greet the sparkling fully aware was considered as important as how one handled being a carrier. Components had to shift and move to allow the sparkling a clear path to the outside world and separate functioning, and they did not always move in ways or orders that seemed to make sense.

The fact that Bladesinger was impatient to get out was not helping matters, the sparkling pushing at things that were often not quite ready to allow her through. A hard shove had Jazz hissing in pain, as he opened the bond with her. ~Patience, brightspark, please. This hurts enough without you helping it.~

She sent a wave of apology, even though it was heavily laced with her impatience. ~I'll try to be.~

Prowl stood by Jazz's helm, watching in utter fascination and no small amount of awe as the separation began in earnest. ~You are doing well, my love,~ he encouraged Jazz, pouring love and support, willingly taking a heavy share of the stress, pain and discomfort as his own.

His bondmate soaked up all of the offered love and support with thanks. ~Going to take forever for all of this to move back.~ Jazz complained softly, more to distract himself as the first abdominal plates moved out of the way and started to open the path for Bladesinger to emerge.

~You should be back to your pre-carrying figure in a decaorn,~ Prowl said softly, his optics locked on the transformations taking place. He had never witnessed it live before, and though he had been prepared with vids of the event and technical data, it was nothing like watching your first creation emerge from your bonded.

As though she could feel the approaching freedom the sparkling pushed again, causing her carrier to wince at the pressure being placed on his tank and armor plating at the same time. There was an audible change in the sound of Jazz's systems as they started working harder to keep up with the demands being placed on them.

There was a squeal of excitement across the bond and audibly when Bladesinger first registered a beam of light. Bright gold optics brightened and she renewed her struggles to reach the outside.

"Golden optics," Prowl whispered, delighted that she had inherited that family trait.

Jazz could only groan as he shuddered under Prowl's hand, his visor going dark as he struggled to concentrate and try to keep up with the pace Bladesinger was attempting, despite the warnings he had been given to let his systems move at their own pace.

While he wanted to meet and his hold their new creation as much as she wanted to be free, the pressure against his already sensitive abdominal plates was causing all of the pain sensors he wasn't allowed to disable to fire, sending waves of pain and distress through his frame.

A sharp, angry squawk dissolved into a keen as she clawed at the light, tearing minor cables and lines in his frame in her rush to squeeze through a space not really big enough for her.

Her helm finally free she paused her struggles briefly, looking up at her carrier and creator with a chir.

Jazz shifted his attention to her for a moment, vision coming online to take in his first sight of their first creation. His spark fluttered as he chirred softly in reply.

"Still, little one." He ordered when she started to move again, and with effort he found and forced the sequence that would fold the rest of his plating out of her way.

She chirred again, clicking and squealing in delight as she got an arm free and rested it on his plating to use for leverage in the next effort.

The worst of the process over, or so Jazz hoped now that she had a clear path, Jazz relaxed on the berth, content to let her work her way out at her own pace.

To no one's surprise, that pace was a fast one. Fast enough that Keepsafe cooed at her to slow down. The sparkling clicked back at her defiantly enough to make Prowl chuckle at her exasperated huff.

"I believe she takes after my creator quite a bit," Prowl said indulgently, silently sharing a few stories he had of his creator's extreme youth and rebellious nature before training and experience had mellowed him into the warrior and leader that lead the Shinning Sun and maintained its greatness.

Jazz smiled a little, reaching out for Prowl's hand with one hand and squeezed. Their optics stayed focused on Bladesinger, Jazz's frame quivering a little from a mixture of exhaustion and excitement while Prowl's wings quivered in amazement and anticipation as she finished her laborious and gooey climb from the protective mini factory that had built and supported her to this stage.

"Be still, Bladesinger," Keepsafe said firmly as she reached for the sparkling. One hand enforced the order while the other delicately disconnected several cables and tubes that still connected her to her carrier.

The lanky protoform chittered angrily at being pinned no matter how gently, her under-developed wing struts beating somewhat erratically in her display of displeasure. Keepsafe simply smiled and finished her work separating carrier from creation before letting her go.

Bladesinger gave a sharp, angry click and glared balefully at the healer before focusing on her creators and crawling up to Jazz's spark and collapsing, exhausted by her efforts and no longer being supported by Jazz's systems and their far greater reserves.

No longer able to resist, Jazz reached up with his free hand and ran a finger gently along Bladesinger's still slick protoform, field and bond flooded with a seemingly endless flood of wonder, awe, and _love_.

"Hello, brightspark." Jazz whispered softly, forgetting all of the pain, the strain, and the damage still visible in his midsection.

She purred softly at the physical attention, the bond alive with relief, satisfaction and love in return. On the tails of that was her physical exhaustion.

"Try to get her to drink a little," Keepsafe handed Jazz a small cube of sparkling energon. The mild energon was thick with supplements and sweetened to make it appealing, though still thin enough to swallow easily. She handed Prowl a soft cloth that he took and began to gently wipe her clean.

"Bladesinger." Jazz murmured, seeking and receiving her attention. He shifted slowly, trying to sit up a little more as he offered her the energon, trusting Prowl to catch her if she started to slip.

Impossibly slender, unarmored limbs reached out for the liquid energy as survival-level protocols informed her that it was _very important_ to drink it. Her fingers were not yet strong or coordinated enough to hold the small cube, though she still tried.

She lapped at it at first, her tiny glossa getting some of the energy into her systems before she worked out how to suck from the edge of the cube as her carrier tipped it fractionally to keep pace with her drinking.

"Very good," Keepsafe said softly with a warm, indulgent smile. This was her favorite duty of all she did for the House.

Delight radiated from Jazz as he watched her drink, pulling his hand free from Prowl's to trace his fingers lightly over her frame, studying every centimeter of the perfect little Aerial with fascination. ~Prowl...she's perfect.~

~Yes, she is,~ Prowl tore his gaze from his creation for a moment to kiss his mate. ~We did very well. _You_ did very well.~

Thanks flared from Jazz, the kiss breaking the moment he felt Bladesinger move, settling back onto Jazz's chest as her golden optics dimmed and she started to fall into recharge, safe, content, and refueled.

Jazz set the energon aside, smiling and thoroughly exhausted. ~Think she has the right idea...~ He murmured to his mate.

"If you wish, recharging here is welcome," Keepsafe offered. "I do wish to see you both every morning after breakfast. Jazz, you need a great deal of rest and energon, much as when you were carrying, to repair the minor damage and set your systems right. I recommend not overloading for at least four orns, possibly longer if your systems are slow to put themselves to rights."

"I understand." Jazz answered, wordless question of 'here?' to Prowl as he felt his awareness starting to fade.

~Recharge, my love,~ Prowl stroked his forehelm gently and kissed him. ~I will hear all that Keepsafe needs to tell us.~

~Love you. Love you both.~ Jazz managed just before he fell into recharge, safe in his mates presence and peacefully content with his first creation in his arms.


	12. Coming Home

~Not much further,~ Prowl murmured, encouraging his mate to lean on him a little more as they walked slowly to their suite. The recharging bundle in his arms was a warmth he had always known he desired, and watching his mate carry her from new spark to when she crawled out only confirmed for him that he desperately wanted to carry himself. For all his disinterest in finding a mate on his own, for how unreasonable he'd been, he finally admitted to himself why. He wanted to be in his mate's place. He may have been raised to be the Lord of the House, but in his spark he was a carrier. Only his loyalty to his creator had kept him from objecting to the path that had been chosen for him.

There was a strong irony in there, and it was tempting to contemplate how things would have been if his and Jazz's roles had been reversed. Not that Jazz had shown any sign of being anything but a loving and attentive carrier from the first moment the younger mech had felt Bladesinger's presence in his spark. It eased the ache of want in Prowl's spark to know that his mate was a _good_ carrier.

~Good thing.~ Was the reply across the bond as Jazz accepted the offered support, still drained from the separation even after refueling several times and several joors of deep recharge. What attention he could spare from walking was focused on the sparkling in his mate's arms, his field thick with the desire to have her back in his own almost palpable.

~Soon,~ Prowl promised, allowing them both to focus on remainder of the walk. He palmed the door open, his gaze sweeping the common room. His slaves were absent, knowing it was not yet their turn to meet the new member of the family, but Steelplate was there.

The large mech stood straight as the door opened, optics focusing instantly as he took in the scene before him.

Jazz leaning on Prowl, his visible state of exhaustion to be expected after what he had just gone through, though the extra protective covering around his midsection was worrying and something that Steelplate would need details on as a priority.

Heir Prowl, standing tall and proud just inside the door.

And the small bundle in his arms that the guardian instinctively knew and responded to, the small life that was to be his to watch over and protect.

He stepped closer to Jazz, offering his own large frame as alternative source of support. "Lord Prowl. Jazz."

"She was impatient to see the world," Prowl explained. ~Do you wish to recharge with Bladesinger, or allow Steelplate to care for her?~

The presence of a new entity in her proximity roused Bladesinger. Golden optics flickered on and quickly focused on the large gray mech. She chirred a greeting. Her creators liked this mech, she would until she found reason not to.

~With me.~ Jazz responded instantly, displaying the possessive desires of a carrier without realizing what he was doing, even as he smiled at their creation's open curiosity of the large mech.

Steelplate rumbled a soft reply as he took Jazz's weight from Prowl, getting an even deeper sense of Jazz's physical state and making a decision of his own. "He should be in a berth."

"Agreed," Prowl canted his wings in firm agreement and a silent urging for Steelplate to get Jazz moving that direction. "He wishes to recharge with Bladesinger. Her next meal is not for a joor and a half."

"She might want it before then." Steelplate commented as he shifted Jazz carefully and easily, affection for his old charge and his new charge warm in his field as he helped Jazz through the suite into the berthroom.

Knowledgeable red optics took in everything, the way Jazz moved and the small flinch as he helped the smaller mech settled on the berth. Later he would contact Keepsafe and get the exact details, including how long his charge was on restricted activity. But for now he wanted Jazz settled, comfortable, and with his sparkling in his arms. 

"Thank you." Jazz sighed as he settled back, mostly content. His mate, his creation, and his mentor, all peacefully in a single room. He looked at Prowl. ~Want her, when you can let go, love. And Steelplate should hold her as well. For a moment.~

~Of course,~ Prowl agreed with a wash of love and pride even as he settled the recharging Bladesinger on Jazz's chest. ~Recharge, love. He can hold her when you are oblivious to her short absence.~

~Won't be oblivious.~ Jazz argued as his arms came up to cradle their creation loosely, processor already growing slow as recharge slowly settled in now that he was comfortable and complete. ~Love you.~ Was the soft added murmur across the bond as his visor grew dim and his field settled.

~Love you both,~ Prowl smiled, stroking his mate's helm softly. His wings canted and flicked, indicating for Steelplate to stay close. He remained with Jazz until his mate was deep in recharge, then carefully picked Bladesinger up and offered the faintly chirring sparkling to her caretaker.

The guardian accepted her with ease, large hands cradling the tiny form with ease and so smoothly that she didn't even twitch in her recharge. His field flared out, wrapping her in a warm blanket that promised safety and protection as his engines rumbled.

Red optics took in every centimeter of the femme's frame, Steelplate murmuring a blessing before offering Bladesinger back to her creator, who cooed softly at her before he settled her back on Jazz's chest.

Prowl motioned Steelplate to follow him from the room, closing the berthroom door before turning to speak, his voice low. "Keepsafe indicated she is strong, well-formed and healthy. Have you ever tended a flier before?"

"No, my lord." Steelplate admitted, optics flickering back to the closed berthroom door before returning to focus on Prowl. "None of Lord Crossbeam's creations were sparked fliers, and I have not had another full time charge since Lord Jazz separated."

Prowl nodded. "They have higher energy needs, different supplements and much lighter frames for their size. While she will believe she can fly and have the desire to try from the beginning, her wings and turbines will not support her until her first youngling upgrade." He sent a databurst containing the files he'd received from Keepsafe to Steelplate, the guardian receiving them with a nod and integrating them with the protocols he already possessed. "As Jazz may have told you, she is strong willed and opinionated. She will try to fly as soon as she works out how to climb."

There was a small flicker of amusement from Steelplate. "Lord Jazz has indicated as much. She sounds very much like her carrier when he was young." He sorted through the different requirements with ease, taking notes. "Some of that can be dealt with redirecting her attention, at least for a little while."

"Yes," Prowl smiled at both statements. "I do trust Softlight and Surestrike with her care, should you need an extra hand or optic with her. Do you have any questions?"

A note was made of the slaves status as as-needed caretakers, should something arise, but the large mech only bowed his helm a little as he answered. "Not yet, my lord. When Lord Jazz wakes from recharge we can see about dividing Bladesinger's care, if he wishes."

The mech's tone revealed that he was aware that it might be quite some time before Jazz was willing the delegate much of his first creation's care, but the guardian was well used to first time carriers and not worried in the least.

Prowl chuckled softly in matching humor. "Good. You are free until Jazz or Bladesinger need you," he said easily, then turned to return to the berthroom to lay with his mate and creation.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Jazz smiled, openly content as he watched Bladesinger investigate the small garden. Three orns old, and already bold and curious.

He was sure that was going to result in some severe processor aches down the way, but for now he couldn't find it in his spark to curb her enthusiasm as she worked her way from one new experience to the next under the watchful gaze of her carrier and the hovering protection of her guardian.

The warmth in his spark only grew as he watched her tug at a low tree, working out why it would bend one way and not the next. "Fun, brightspark?"

"Yes!" she chirped back with her favorite word, grinning over her shoulder at him, their bond alive with delight. Her helm abruptly snapped back so she could gaze upwards and the bond roared with an intensity of _yes-want- **NEED**_ that nearly overloaded Jazz's circuits.

Her carrier shuddered at the rush, catching sight of the circling turbohawk as well. "Not yet. Soon." The words were reinforced with promise under the bond, though Jazz was sure that anything short of _this instant_ couldn't be soon enough for Bladesinger.

~Jazz?~ Prowl nudged their bond with a silent question as to the cause of the intense emotions from their creation.

Amusement was the instant response. ~She wants to fly, love. Caught sight of a turbohawk. Nothing unusual.~

A low, amused wash of a chuckle came in reply before Prowl focused back on the business that had taken him out of their quarters.

"Fly!" Bladesinger chirred insistently at her carrier.

"Not yet, Blade. Soon though." Jazz said, rising from his seat to pick her up and tickle the bare protoform of her chest lightly with his fingers. "When you have some armor to keep you safe."

She cooed at the attention and pouted at the denial at the same time, her slender protoform wings fluttering in happiness.

Jazz laughed again, placing her gently on the ground and watching as she went back to investigating. Even his small personal garden would be able to hold her interest for a while, as things changed and grew.

She moved, abet awkwardly, right for the tallest tree and set delicate claws to work trying to scale the crystalline trunk.

Concerned for her safety but also curious as to how far she might get, Jazz turned to help. "Steelplate?"

His mentor gave a reassuring smile. "Just stand behind her and keep your hands close enough to catch without hindering her," the older mech suggested.

Satisfied on every level with that suggestion Jazz came up behind her, hands at the ready to catch her if she might slip and fall, but also sending encouragement through the bond, urging her onward and very proud.

She trilled and chirred and chittered happily with each length she climbed. The strain it caused didn't hinder her. She was going to get _high_.

~Jazz!~ Prowl's raw panic erupted over the previously calm bond. ~You. Bladesinger. Where?~

~Garden.~ Jazz answered instantly, Prowl's panic hitting him like a tidal wave. ~What's wrong?~ He demanded, even as he collected Bladesinger, outwardly calm. "Come Brightspark. Time to go in. You can climb later."

He could feel Steelplate at his back in an instant, large mech well in tune with his charges and noticing the change in Jazz's body language the moment it hit.

Jazz felt his mate force himself to calm down. 

~It is customary for a creation to remain in the suite until it is presented,~ Prowl attempted to explain, a thread of apology at his reaction weaving among the words. ~A tradition from old times, when the compound walls did not mean the safety they do now,~ he continued as his state settled. ~It did not occur to me that you would not have been raised with the same traditions.~

~Wasn't, love.~ Apology flowed across the bond, along with mostly unclear memories of being outside from the time he could stand on his own, special because they were some of the few he had with his own carrier in them. ~I'm sorry. We're on our way.~

~Thank you,~ Prowl relaxed further. ~It is important she is not seen yet.~ Along with the words was a sense that Prowl didn't fully grasp why, but it had been impressed on him as important and he was not inclined to question it. It was tradition. That was enough.

Confusion rippled in response, but with it was an accepting trust. Jazz didn't understand, couldn't grasp why none but their small family, her guardian, and Keepsafe should be the only ones allowed to see Bladesinger. But if Prowl said it was important he would take it as truth.

~Almost there. Took the back way. And if anyone was about I think Steelplate's glare convinced them they needed to be somewhere else.~

Prowl sent a hum of thanks and eagerness to see them both again. 

He was there at the door to greet them with a smile for Bladesinger and kiss for his mate. Jazz purred softly into the kiss, relieved that Prowl was not angry at him, even if he hadn't meant any harm in taking Bladesinger outside with him.

Speaking of which...~You are going to have to find her something to climb on now.~ He informed his mate, sharing the image of the creation determinedly scaling the small tree.

A low chuckle greeted that as Prowl tickled her with gentle fingers. ~I think that can be arranged,~ he murmured, thoughtful. With a glance around the common room, a hum and a sneaky smile he turned back to his mate. "Keep her occupied for a breem. I'll be right back."

Jazz tilted his helm, curious as to what his mate had in mind. A look was shared with Steelplate, but the large guardian could only shrug as knowledgeable optics studied Bladesinger. "She'll be wanting to snack soon. I'll go find some of her energon."

Checking the time and realizing the truth of what Steelplate had said, Jazz settled in a chair, nuzzle and ticking at the creation in his lap until she squealed, thoroughly distracted.

When Prowl returned, he was carrying a sizeable pile of netting of two different hole sizes and materials, a box and a ladder. "If she's going to insist on climbing, we should provide her with a _safe_ but entertaining way to climb," he explained as the supplies were put down and he went to work setting up fasteners near the high ceiling along the wall opposite to their berthroom door.

Both Jazz and Bladesinger were thoroughly intrigued as they watched Prowl's creation take shape in the common room. A large weave net was strung up vertically, with three layers of small weave nets stretched out horizontally, spaced so that any fall or leap would be caught before it was far enough to cause any damage yet would still give a sense of flight.

True to his word, in less than a breem Prowl had the simple construction set up. "Bladesinger, would you like to climb?"

Jazz could barely hold on to the squirming sparkling, her attention locked on her own personal climbing rig. "Yes!"

Pleasure lit up the bond from Prowl's side. It was such a simple thing, but it caused joy and that made him very happy as he watched Jazz bring their creation over and set her down near the bottom of the vertical net, secured about a pace away from the wall.

Amused affection flowed from Jazz as he watched Bladesinger tackle the new challenge, the shifting net providing its own set of difficulties compared to the tree that had been her first experience.

Prowl smiled and moved to wrap his arms around Jazz from behind. "That should help keep her entertained until she can officially go outside."

"Thank you." Jazz murmured, love swelling along the bond as he turned his helm to nuzzle at Prowl, his frame relaxing into the warm support of his mate.

* * *

Jazz watched in affectionate amusement as Bladesinger tackled the climbing rig once more. He'd found a way to extend her interest in it some by attaching objects in various places of the weave for her to retrieve. And when that got boring Jazz already had another idea taking shape in his processor to extend the entertainment value of his mate's genius.

He felt Prowl approaching through the bond and let a flare of excitement through, intending to capture his mate's attention. Curiosity flickered in reply, as well as a sense of Prowl picking up his pace.

Jazz rose to greet him as the door opened, wrapped his mate in a hug and initiating a kiss with more than a hint of heat behind it. ~Good news love.~

The deep rev of Prowl's engine was the first response as Prowl willingly fell into the kiss and the passion behind it. ~You cleared the medical check.~

~So Keepsafe said this morning when she stopped in to check on us.~ Jazz replied. "I am still not to 'over do' it, but I am allowed resume normal activities."

"Good," Prowl purred eagerly, his hands sliding down along Jazz's sides as he claimed another kiss. ~It's been entirely too long since I felt your spike in me. Can we let Steelplate watch her for a joor or two?~

~He'd be more than willing to.~ Jazz responded, a shiver running through his frame at the _touch_ that had been missing. ~He could go ahead and get her cleaned up for the night. You know that will keep her completely occupied.~

"Good," Prowl rumbled, only just keeping his desires under control enough to keep from taking him against the wall right then. ::Steelplate. Bladesinger needs to be watched and prepared for recharge. Her carrier is going to be occupied for a while.::

The large mech appeared in an instant, optics taking in the entire room before focusing on the sparkling half way up the climbing rig. "As my lord commands. Come, Bladesinger. Time for a bath."

Protoform wing struts wiggled as she looked down, then over at her kissing creators with a chirring giggle. With a trill they had come to recognize as agreement, she crawled up one more run of the vertical net and out over the horizontal one. She watched from the edge as Prowl pulled Jazz towards the berthroom then focused on Steelplate.

"Catch me!" she squealed at her caretaker, then leapt for his chest.

~We're in so much trouble when she gets the youngling upgrades,~ Prowl laughed at their creation's antics before the berthroom door closed behind him.

~Going to have to be very strict about 'no flying without supervision'.~ Jazz agreed, thoroughly distracting himself from the topic by running his hands over his mate's frame.

Prowl chuckled, pressing into the touch as he claimed another kiss. ~What is it my love desires?~

~Sparks. After she is down for recharge.~ His mate answered, hands gliding over the sleek armor as it trembled in anticipation. ~Until then, whatever you desire.~

Prowl's engine revved in anticipation as their bond came alive with image and intent, mostly of Jazz laying back and enjoying as his mate did all the work.

The sounds that escaped Jazz at the suggestion was full of desire and _want_. Want to be pleasured and share that pleasure, wanting to desired and wanted. His lips met Prowl's and his frame rubbed pleadingly against his mate's as he was gently pushed to the berth and laid down. Prowl smoothly followed him down, kissing as he hovered over his mate.

Reluctantly the kiss broke so Prowl's lips could begin mapping Jazz's face, slowly, softly, only just ghosting over the sensitive, flexible metal that covered the complex mechanisms that allowed expression.

Whispering touches that left Jazz whimpering and shivering with his each brush of his mate's lips, and dark hand running reflexively down Prowl's sides.

"You are beautiful, my love," Prowl allowed his voice to caress Jazz's features as his lips wondered over the lovely azure visor. "Our creation is all I dared hope for and more, and you were such a good carrier."

Pleasure, pride, and love for Prowl washed back across the bond "She's perfect. She's ours." And the wonder in Jazz's field at that was still fresh and bright.

"Yes," Prowl rumbled, his spark echoing Jazz's feelings. "And you are _mine_ ," he added, pleasure and pride in that fact echoing between them as Prowl's lips trailed down Jazz's jaw to his throat.

"Yours." Jazz offered from the depth of his spark, tilting his helm to expose all of neck to the gentle touch and slow seep of pleasure his lover was causing. It was so rare that Prowl was in a mood for tactile, and even rarer for him to be in a mood to take it this slow.

This was blissful in a way Jazz had all but given up experiencing. As gentle and slow as that first time, but now he knew enough to last more than a breem.

Every little touch of the hands that knew his frame so well now sent tingles through his circuits. Pleasure that Prowl could feel echoing over thoroughly blended fields, pleasure and love and devotion that Jazz had never wanted to give but now could not imagine living without.

With infinite patience Prowl continued down Jazz's chest, exploring every seam, crevice and cable with lips, glossa and fingers. He relished in the heat pouring off his love, that he could do this without touching any interfacing components. The rush that the power gave Prowl was intense, as was the bliss pouring over field and bond, all directed all him.

On top of all it was the fact that Jazz truly enjoyed this, savored it and loved every touch and brush and simply having Prowl with him. Jazz was trembling with arousal and pleasure by the time Prowl reached his abdominals and began mapping them with the same careful precision he'd used on Jazz's upper frame.

Soft whimpers and keens greeted the attention, Jazz's frame arching in each moment of bliss as they started to flow together. ~Love you.~ Loved Prowl, loved that his mate cared for him, for his pleasure, was willing to indulge him in something like this.

~I love you,~ Prowl replied, earnest and honest, not simply because he wanted a lover for his mate, but because he loved who Jazz was. ~I love your pleasure, your trust in me.~

With each mental word he trailed a kiss further down Jazz's abdominals until he kissed the seam that separated them from his spike cover. Yet instead of moving further down, he began to work his way back up, exploring Jazz's sides.

Trust that was more complete than even that given to Jazz's mentor or his creator, trust invested in the one mecha who knew him to his very spark and loved, accepted, and desired what was there, what was Jazz.

~Yours.~ The answer was almost incoherent even across the bond through the building pleasure, the charge gathering in Jazz's systems that much stronger for being encouraged and nurtured slowly.

~Mine. Yours.~ Prowl accepted and returned the trust, affection and devotion that was _love_. He shivered in anticipation of driving his mate over the edge for the first time in nearly a decaorn and a half.

"Prowl." The soft sound of his designation, warning as the charge crested and surged through his systems, flooding every connection between them, stronger and sweeter for the time it had been denied. Energy danced across Jazz's frame as cables pulled taunt, nearly arching his frame off the berth as Prowl slid upwards to enjoy the wash of what he'd done.

The Praxian pressed himself against his mate, moaning and shivering at the pleasure and energy rippling into him. It wasn't enough to trigger an overload, but it felt _good_.

Jazz came down from the high slowly, the warmth and initial contentment in his frame perfect as he turned his helm, nuzzling and kissing Prowl. Slowly it penetrated his overload hazed processors that his mate was nearly vibrating with need above him. With a smile and an affectionate purr that vibrated his entire frame Jazz reached up, hands finding the highly attractive sensor wings of his mate and running skillfully along the length, smoothing over the flat expanses and finding every seam and connector.

He barely made it to the quivering tips before Prowl keened and the built-up energy roaming his circuits roared out of control to leap across connections and open space. His golden optics briefly whited out as his back arched, physical bliss pouring off him and into his mate.

Now it was Jazz's turn to relish the feel of his mate under his hands and the pure pleasure that something as simple as a knowing touch could bring. The shared emotions through the bond intensified what was already bliss.

Prowl panted heavily as the overload settled and he gradually relaxed his frame, leaning into a soft kiss. ~Up for more?~

~Maybe.~ Jazz purred back, nuzzling at Prowl when the kiss ended and recalling the very suggestive feel of Prowl around his spike and adding the impression of Praxian over him.

With a low chuckle Prowl agreed, and suggested the delicious sensation of running his glossa around the rim of Jazz's valve, tasting his lubricant and the enticing sensation of Jazz's overload against his glossa and lips.

The mech under him shuddered, a low moan escaping him at just the thought. ~Won't say no, if you want.~

After a long, leisurely kiss Prowl lightly kissed his way down his mate's frame until he reached Jazz's abdominal plates. Then he paused to slide his hands under his mate's knees and lifted them to his shoulders as he slid further down. His lips ghosted across Jazz's valve cover while his hands stroked along white thighs.

His mate relaxed back on the berth, moaning in pleasure as the cover slid away, valve already glistening with lubricant. With a deep rumble Prowl drew in a deep intake of air, relishing the unique scent that was Jazz's arousal.

With precise care he lowered his helm and slid his glossa along the outer rim of platelets in a long, languid circle that slowly spiraled inward. Jazz fingers dug into the surface of the berth as another moan escaped, long and drawn out to match the slow pleasure being offered by his mate's skilled glossa. 

"So good." He whispered softly.

His mate hummed in appreciation as his glossa delicately slid into the pooling lubricant at the entrance of Jazz's valve and swirled along the sensitive ring of sensors there. Strong white hands stroked along Jazz's legs, caressing the seams and teasing out more small moans and gasps of pleasure. Their bond flowed with the emotional satisfaction Prowl felt at drawing those sounds and Jazz's delight at the slow arousal.

While he appreciated the instant gratification of a fast, intense overload as much as anyone, there was something about the intimacy required in a slow overload, the extra _knowing_ of your partner, that added an extra level of pleasure to the charge already building once more.

In this too was the surrender, with his back on the berth and any ability to control or affect what was being done to him minimalized, that had him shivering and keening softly as his mate simply _gave_.

He gasped as the first of the deeper nodes were teased, pressed and stroked with a skilled glossa and the dedicated patience Prowl displayed with his planning. Already hazy clouds of bliss were descending on Jazz, growing thicker with each bit of attention being paid to the nodes in his valve, reducing his focus to the pleasure and the need spiraling through him.

With such a slow, tender buildup, the valve overload, usually a fast, hard one around Prowl's driving spike became a gradual rise of pure bliss where the line between pleasure and overload blurred in the most delightful way. One moment Jazz was savoring the feel of his mate's glossa in his valve, seeking and lavishing attention on the still extra sensitive nodes. The next he was sliding into overload as the energy crested, washing gently over his frame instead of rushing over him.

His valve clenched down, the charge brushing against his mate as Jazz keened softly, the slow overload carrying him on a tide of pleasure that flowed and ebbed into a hazy warmth. He was dimly aware of Prowl's attentions continuing as he came down, then the warmth of his mate's presence snuggled against his side.

"So lovely," Prowl murmured. His frame was aroused, the charge built up enough for him to be eager, but not so high that he couldn't wait for his mate to recover.

It was time that Jazz took full advantage of, allowing every small sensation of pleasure to wash over him and sharing them with his mate. Finally he turned his helm to nuzzle at Prowl. "Love you. Shall we finish that off for you?" He offered as a hand slid lightly down Prowl's frame to brush over the Praxian's valve cover.

A low moan escaped Prowl as the cover snapped open. The built-up lubricants spilled out, washing over his inner thigh and Jazz's fingers.

"Are you certain you are strong enough?" Prowl asked, though there was no missing how badly he wanted Jazz's spike inside him.

Jazz tilted his helm to claim a gentle kiss from his mate, letting his own desire spill through it as gentle fingers stroked the platelets surrounding his mate's valve and brushed over the sensitive exterior. "I am."

A shiver caressed Prowl's frame as he leaned over to kiss his mate more firmly. "I'll never tire of feeling you inside me," he rumbled as he shifted the rest of the way above Jazz. A gasp escaped him as Jazz's fingers continued to tease him, the new position opening his legs and his valve as it triggered desires deep inside Prowl's core.

A soft snap as Jazz's spike cover slid back, the mech smiling with pride as his fingers continued to pleasure his mate. He liked pleasing Prowl, loved that his mate loved being with him, and even if this wasn't Jazz's preferred form of interface, the fact that it was with Prowl and it made Prowl feel so good, so _wanted_ , made it a form of intense pleasure all it's own.

"Very glad to hear that." He purred softly. Slowly, almost reluctantly, Jazz spread his fingers, rubbing along the inner edges of the platelets to spread them and guided his spike's tip to rest between them.

Above him Prowl arched, his helm tipping back as he keened his need.

_Mine._

Hands withdrew to rest on Prowl's hips, fingers rubbing over the smooth plating. "Yours." Jazz he whispered softly, even though the feeling that flowed across the bond was he one he felt, but refused to voice aloud or even really acknowledge as his hips thrust upward.

Prowl roared and went stiff, his valve rippling around the spike that spread him open for the first time in far too long. Trembling that consumed his frame and the bliss pouring through his circuits exploded across their bond.

Jazz stilled a moment, enjoying the rush and allowing Prowl to settle a bit before shifting his feet on the berth, seeking better leverage.

Satisfied, his grip tightened on his mate's hips, love pouring across the bond because it could as Jazz began to move, spike gliding into his mate in steady, strong rhythm that brought bliss to them both.

Above him Prowl writhed and keened, arching back before he fell forward to brace on hands spread on either side of Jazz's helm. The change in angle made him shudder again as he desperately sought his mate's mouth. With the pleasure, thanks and euphoria pouring into Jazz from Prowl, the unguarded thought of what this act triggered for Prowl also slipped through. Though it was never a true secret, Jazz had never felt his mate's desire to carry so strongly before.

The depth of the revelation was buried in the moment, but far from lost as Jazz's lips met his mate's, his own control slipping in the face of Prowl's need and desire as Jazz focused on the tight valve and bringing his mate release. His fingers tightened on Prowl's hips as he thrust up, strong and deeply until a resonant moan rolled from his chassis and his frame tensed, driving his hips up and pulling his hands down as he poured hot transfluid into Prowl's valve.

With a keen that was nearly a scream Prowl reveled in the bliss that was that hot rush inside him and let go, submitting completely to the ecstasy and desires of his spark and frame.

Jazz fell back on the berth, panting and spent as the last wisps of energy skittered over his frame. Sated and satisfied, he felt more than saw as his mate came down from the mutual high and sink down to lay on top of him, completely lax and strutless with contentment radiating off him from spark to frame to processors. Prowl's valve continued to twitch and work the spike inside it, but the effort was uncoordinated and eventually stilled.

~Energon?~ Prowl eventually managed, more thought-image than word.

Jazz answer was just as vague, but got the point across with a feeling of acceptance and a nudge in the direction of the bond they shared with their creation, open again once more and bright with innocent joy.

Prowl hummed and reached for a cube of energon, reluctantly shifting off Jazz's spike so they could sit up and drink.

With a sigh of contentment Jazz righted himself on the berth, settling comfortably beside Prowl and enjoying simply being this close to his mate and the shared warmth of their fields as they each consumed their energon and the sensations of sated pleasure.

"Think you'll be able to settle her in for recharge?" Prowl nuzzled his mate.

"Of course." Jazz replied as he leaned into the attention. Putting his first creation into her berth at night, singing her to recharge, was not something that he was willing to miss just yet.

"Good," Prowl tipped his mate's chin up for a long, leisurely kiss before they finished their energon. "I think she would miss your attention."

Jazz hummed in hopeful agreement. ~She'll never have to.~ He whispered, offering a prayer to Primus for truth to his words before finishing off his energon and sliding from the berth to go and rescue Steelplate from his charge for the orn.

* * *

Jazz watched with tolerant amusement as Bladesinger raced around the room, dodging under and around things as though someone was chasing her. A little earlier it had been her carrier, now it was merely whatever her imagination chose to as a pursuer.

She'd tire of the game soon enough, maybe before Prowl returned, maybe not. Jazz glanced at the detailing kit already laid out. First creation was not enough to overrule the needs of the House, and Surestrike and Softlight had everything prepared so that their master would look his best for the company the House was hosting that orn.

Jazz was just thankful that Bladesinger was enough of an excuse to keep him out of the public optic for the time being, a fact that he was admittedly milking for all it was worth.

He heard the door open, a welcoming pulse sent along the bond as Jazz rose to greet his mate.

~Has Bladesinger been good for you?~ Prowl asked in good humor as he welcomed his mate in an embrace and warm kiss.

~Very good. I would just watch out for whatever is currently chasing her. It has been on her tail for the span of several kliks now.~ His mate responded in the same amused tone, along with delight in their creation and the feeling of rightness that came with being in Prowl's arms.

~Likely a lightcat,~ Prowl chuckled, sharing a few memories of the favored House phantom. ~Harmless to adults, entertaining for sparklings.~

~And ever randomly changing so that it remains that way.~ Jazz commented with a laugh of his own as he nuzzled affectionately at Prowl. He stepped back, turning his helm to search for their sparkling.

"Bladesinger!" Prowl's voice was sharper than Jazz had ever heard from his mate, short of the time he'd dressed down two junior members of the House over their talk about Jazz. The bond conveyed more distress than anger, however, as Prowl rushed to her.

Jazz's gaze instinctively followed his mate's movement to take in their sparkling, sitting on the table and painted in an array of black, white, red, gold, silver and blue. He had to bite back a laugh at the condition of their sparkling and the startled look in her bright golden optics at her sire's tone of voice. Never once had she been addressed like that.

Of course, this was the first time she had been given this unique sort of opportunity as well.

Jazz followed his mate, scooting the paints out of her reach as Prowl lifted her, careful to keep any possible transfer to a minimum. ~Go ahead and get after her love, but wait too long and she is going to find out this isn't fun at all when we have to spend a joor scrubbing it off of her.~

~As good as that lesson would be, it could well be toxic to systems as young as hers,~ Prowl explained his distress even as Softlight, Surestrike and Steelplate all came running from the sound of Prowl's voice. ~She has no armor to absorb it.~

Both slaves looked somewhere between horrified and terrified as they took in the situation. 

"Master...." Softlight couldn't find any words to express himself, torn between wanting to tend to the sparkling and knowing he was responsible and thus had lost all rights to go anywhere near her.

"I'll mix the stripper," Steelplate said smoothly and calmly, turning to go to the sparkling washrack attached to the nursery. "She will be fine, Lord Jazz. She's not the first sparkling I've gotten paint and polish off of."

"I know." Jazz admitted, the small quiver running through the bond betraying just _who_ one of those past sparklings had been as Jazz ran a critical optic over Bladesinger and then the supplies in hand. ~Looks worse than it is, I think, love. She didn't get into any of the really nasty stuff.~ He hadn't even finished the thought when a quiver along the bond put it firmly in place that his ever-logical mate wasn't _thinking_.

Prowl was simply _reacting_ , and he was reacting to what he perceived as a threat to his very young first creation.

As his mate darted for the nursery washrack behind Steelplate, Jazz caught a glimpse of the slaves hurriedly cleaning up the mess she'd made and the fear that caused their armor to slick down tightly to their protoforms.

With a soft sigh Jazz set the paints back down on the table and followed his mate, picking up the pace a little as he felt Prowl's distress over the bond and trying to calm it as best as he could and just hoping that his mate would forgive _him_ for his momentary lapse and the panic it was causing.

The small washrack was getting a little crowded by the time he arrived, Steelplate's large form mostly out of the way in a corner as he expertly diluted the needed solvent so that it wouldn't burn Bladesinger's protoform when they removed the paint. While most of his attention was on the task at hand, a small part of it was spared for the agitated Praxian holding Bladesinger. It flickered to Jazz when he stuck his helm. "Should be done in another klik. It just needs to finish diffusing properly."

Prowl twitched, his wings nearly vibrating as they wiggled and fluttered in distress. The bond was still open, much to Jazz's relief, but Prowl's side was full of the distress of not knowing what to do and how alien that sensation was.

~She's fine love.~ Jazz murmured, coming up beside his mate and stretching out his field so that it rubbed against Prowl. Steelplate wasn't worried, and Jazz wasn't going to be unless the older mech indicated that there was a reason to be concerned.

Prowl leaned into the field contact, needing the comfort, Jazz's certainty and faith in Steelplate.

~Calm, please.~ He begged softly, trying to focus his mate's attention on Bladesinger. ~She's upset because you are. Not because she's actually hurt. And if you're worried I'll call Keepsafe to check her once she's clean.~

Slowly Prowl took a step back and leaned against Jazz, soaking up his mate's calmness in an effort to settle himself.

~See?~ Jazz leaned against Prowl, reaching around to tickle at part of Bladesinger's arm that wasn't covered in paint and finally earning a small chirp from the little femme.

"Sorry." She whimpered, not sure exactly why everyone was upset and her sire was angry, only knowing that it was something that she had done.

"You could have been badly damaged by those things," Prowl murmured, nuzzling her with little concern for his appearance. "Your systems are not ready to be exposed to such compounds."

There was a period of extreme concentration from Bladesinger as she worked her way through that, and even though she still didn't understand all of it she finally looked up at Prowl and said firmly. "No touch." Placing the paints and things in with the short list of items that she was not allowed to handle.

Steelplate smiled slightly as he turned to the young couple. "I can clean her up, if you wish my Lords."

"I think we will," Jazz said, questioning brush against Prowl to make sure that his mate _wanted_ too as Jazz tweaked Bladesinger's nose and caused the sparkling to giggle.

"Yes," Prowl nodded, stepping fully into the room and tucking his wings close to keep them out of them way as he reached to turn the very diluted solvent into the sink-height small tub that she was always washed in. A place of good memories for the sparkling.

Steelplate nodded in approval and stepped outside the door, watching and close at hand should the couple need anything but very glad that they were taking such an interest in their creation, especially under stress when she'd gotten into trouble. He'd raised Jazz to do so by example, but it made the old mech feel good to know that Prowl was much the same. So many nobles, especially those who were forced to kindle young, were understandably distant from their creations.

As soon as Steelplate was out of the way Jazz wiggled his way around beside his mate, smiling as Bladesinger squealed when her pede-tips touched the warm mixture and she started to squirm in Prowl's grasp. He smiled inside and offered silent support through the bond and his field as Prowl got their creation into the warm liquid and used gentle fingers to rub off what he could of the bright jumble of colors smeared on her.

The solvent went to work on the mess, melting the colors off the sparkling's frame into the bath water, though Bladesinger did little to help the process as she wiggled and squirmed. "Tickles!"

~Is she always this squirmy?~ Prowl asked with a remarkably deadpan mental voice as he trickled the slightly stronger solvent that Steelplate prepared over her, ignoring her squirms as he focused on his current job.

~She might not be quite as bad if you scrub a little harder, but yes.~ Jazz answered affectionately. ~Most sparklings are. I got to help with my brother's creations and they were no better at bath time.~

~Right,~ Prowl made the small correction, still very careful not to damage her but putting more pressure in his efforts.

The change in pressure brought about an abrupt change in Bladesinger, the sparkling cooing in delight at the firm but gentle strokes as she settled and allowed her sire to clean her up without further struggles.

~And sometimes you get lucky.~ Jazz added, leaning against his mate and watching with deep affection. ~She's one that calms down. At least for now. And by the time she's old enough to really want to play in the bath she'll probably be big enough to use a standard washrack.~

~We can hope,~ Prowl relaxed slightly as he opened the drain half way and turned the solvent flow to full, creating a perpetually draining pool that helped wash the colors away. "Do you like getting messy?" he cooed at her.

"Yes!" She chirped, clearly pleased with what she had managed to accomplish even if she understood that she was never to do it again. "Pretty colors." She added, reaching up to touch her sparker's bright chevron when he leaned down and looked at her own dull protoform to emphasize her point.

"When your armor forms you will have bright colors too," he told her. "I will see about paints that are safe for you to play with."

Jazz laughed at the delighted chirr and the way that Bladesinger perked up at the promise, a wave of loving affection directed at his mate as he reached down to retrieve the second container of solvent that had been mixed up and a scrub rag.

"Here. For the stubborn spots." He said, pointing out a white patch on Bladesinger's aft where it looked as though she had sat in the paint, and another one on her knee joint that was stubbornly refusing to come off.

Prowl smiled slightly and took the rag, rubbing a little harder on the stubborn spots. "Paints that come off easily," he added. "What colors do you like best?"

"White." She said, looking from Prowl to Jazz, then after a moment's though she added. "Blue."

"White and black are both very likely, as are blue, red and gold," Prowl smiled. "You are likely to be largely white if our heritage is accurate."

She purred happily at the thought, pulling away from some more insistent scrubbing without really fighting as her optics flickered to the gold that accented her sire's frame. "Gold is pretty."

"Most colors are pretty," Prowl chuckled, picking her up and inspecting her aft for any trace of white. "If you don't like your natural colors, you can get yourself painted differently."

Her seat clean Bladesinger offered up her knee for Prowl to work on, twitching as it tickled and laughing at the face's Jazz was making at her behind her sparkers back. "Green is pretty too." She decided.

"Greens would look very good with your gold optics," Prowl agreed. "As would mid-range purples. Blue and red derivatives should be used carefully."

"Derivatives?" She repeated slowly, testing the word and looking up at Prowl curiously.

"A substance that can be made from another substance," Prowl have the literal definition. "In this instance, I was referring to colors that are more blue or red than any other color," he added, projecting a small display of the color wheel for her, highlighting the blue derivatives, then the red ones.

Understanding dawned in the bright golden optics, before she seemed to settle. "White and blue." She stated firmly, as though that was final and nature itself would accommodate her will.

Prowl chuckled and gave her a final inspection. "We shall see, little one."

"Prowl..." Jazz started softly as he looked their creation over himself and reached around to run his fingers lightly over Bladesinger's chest and the first hints of forming armor plating. "Look."

"I thought I felt it," Prowl hummed happily. "You are maturing nicely," he told her. "Your first plating is developing."

Bladesinger followed their focus and made a face. "Itchy."

Jazz burst out laughing before leaning in to nuzzle at her affectionately. "Yes, brightspark. But it means that you can go outside soon."

The sparklings face crinkled. "Already go outside." She retorted.

Her carrier grew serious for a moment. "Which is what?"

"Secret." She conceded, not willing to lose that privilege.

~It also means you'll lose your excuse for avoiding my kin soon,~ Prowl teased his mate. "It will stop itching soon."

~I know. And the ones that like me will be happy to see me and the ones that don't will just find something else to be politely insulting about.~ Jazz sighed.

~They will be much more careful now,~ Prowl said softly, a sense that not just he would be influencing that. ~You are going to be fully confirmed and proven as the next First Bonded of the House. Even without the influence you have with me, the position is one of significant authority in and of itself.~

"Ready to rinse off, Brightspark?" Jazz asked, turning his attention back to the sparkling.

She squealed in delight and her sire turned on the rinse, allowing her to play in the falling liquid.

Jazz chuckled, the sound honest humor as he watched Bladesinger splash in the rinse, not caring as it splattered on them both. ~Then maybe they will at least keep their ill will down to mutters behind my back.~

~If they are smart, they will keep them to where they are never heard by the wrong audials,~ Prowl suppressed the angry rumble of his engine.

Jazz laughed and kissed his mate, the first time in affection and the second time and because it made Bladesinger squeal. 

The rinse was quickly shut off before she splashed too much more of it on them as Jazz grabbed a drycloth and scooped her up in it, laughing and giggling.

"I'll get her dry so you can clean up for company."


	13. Introductions

Bladesinger looked all around, openly curious as they arrived at their destination. For the first time she could remember her carrier was not sneaking her through the House, which meant that they were supposed to be here and that here, wherever it was, was not secret. Another look around confirmed what she had already known- they were the only ones present in the hall. Which meant it was fine for her to ask questions.

"What are we doing?" She wanted to know, especially since she was getting an odd mix of emotions from her creators. They were happy and excited, but also nervous, and she was picking up her carrier's fear despite his efforts to hide it.

"You, Bladesinger, are going to meet someone very important." Her carrier informed her, nuzzling her helm gently. "Which means you need to behave, at least for now, all right?"

Innocent gold optics met his, the sparkling clearly excited at being out and seeing new mecha, but she nodded in agreement as her sire rang for admittance to the House Lord's own suite.

The door slid open to an entry room larger than theirs, and while it had more elegance and airy decor, there was also no way to miss the number of trophies and awards on display to emphasize Lord Bladedrift's capabilities as a front line warrior and as a General. All that was lost as the attractive gray and blue Praxian with a single wing panel on each side bowed to them.

"We are here to present Lord Bladedrift and his bondeds with the Lord Heir's first creation and heir apparent," Prowl spoke formally.

"Of course, Lord Prowl," the servant bowed once more. "Please enter and make yourselves comfortable. The Lord of the House is expecting you."

Bladesinger snuggled into Jazz's arms more, optics focused on her sire as she processed the entirely different _feel_ of the moment of her creators walking into a room that had much in common with the one she played in, but was very different because her creators did not feel at home here.

The servant walked off with a smooth grace to announce them to their Lord.

~She is perfect,~ Prowl's spark brushed against Jazz's. ~There is no reason for her to be rejected.~

Jazz settled Bladesinger against his chest better, nuzzling at her more to distract himself than her. ~I know.~ There was no doubt in his spark that their creation was anything less than prefect. ~And as soon as he says we won't have to worry any more.~

A brush of affection and understanding came from Prowl before the servant came back.

"Lord Bladedrift and his mates will see you now," he bowed deeply to the pair.

Jazz fell into step just behind his mate, following Prowl through the suite and having the momentary distraction of the thought that one orn they would be the ones living here, likely before Bladesinger was a youngling. It was no real secret that Bladedrift was not expected to see the next century.

Then another door opened, and the servant stepped aside, allowing them to enter an inner room, and the mecha arrayed around it.

Settled in a comfortable seat was the Lord of the House, around him his mates, and all of their attention now on their guests.

In a display of formal submission Jazz had never witnessed from his mate before, Prowl slid smoothly to one knee, his wings canted down and spread outward in full vulnerability in the display and his helm bowed, exposing his neck while reducing his ability to perceive an attack before it came.

"My Lord and sire, I come to present my first creation. Carried by my first bonded, her spark line witnessed at the Temple and declared strong and healthy by the standards of the Shining Sun."

The mood in room shifted slightly, accommodating Prowl's mode with ease and a small hint of good humor.

"I see my Heir. I see his First Bonded. I would meet the first creation of them." Bladedrift responded, matching the formality with ease.

Jazz reached out to his mate over the bond, asking for some sort of direction. A gentle soothing came from Prowl, a reassurance that the formality was on him, not Jazz.

~Take her to him,~ Prowl offered.

Jazz nudged Bladesinger's helm, directing her attention to Bladedrift as he crossed the room smoothly, stopping before the Lord of the House.

Bladedrift's bright gold optics focused on the small creation, lifting his hands and waiting patiently as Bladesinger looked at her carrier.

~It's all right, brightspark.~ Jazz smiled at her, shifting her around so that she could go to Bladedrift. ~Your grandsire wishes to hold you.~

She glanced at Jazz, then at Prowl, who had risen to stand, awaiting the final verdict, then at the old mech. "Hello," she chirped at Bladedrift and wiggled a bit as she accepted being placed in his hands. "I like your designation."

Jazz stepped back a bit as Bladedrift settled her closer, easing her down on his knee and looking her over critically. "Thank you, little one. And what is your designation?"

"Bladesinger," she grinned at him, utterly unafraid of the new giants. Her attention kept flicking to the movement of Coda's wings as the old Seeker watched with a warm smile. "Carrier named me Bladesong after his carrier and you, but I like Bladesinger better."

"Indeed. I like your choice as well." Bladedrift's optics shifted from her to Jazz, then to Prowl. ::She chose her own designation?::

::Yes,:: Prowl was nearly beaming with pride. ::Before she could speak to her carrier, she gave a pulse of approval for Bladesong. After she could speak, one of her first statements was the change to it.::

::Opinionated. You are going to have your hands full with her.:: He tilted his helm to study the winglets on her back as well, then faced her again. "I am very happy to meet you Bladesinger."

::Indeed,:: Prowl agreed.

She chirred in pleasure, her winglets wiggling in a mirror of what Coda's were doing as she watched the Seeker's soft purple optics watching her.

With a small, amused sound Bladedrift raised his optics to meet Prowl's. "A most fitting Heir Apparent to the House of Shining Sun. You have done well."

She wiggled again and he set her down gently, watching in amusement as the sparkling homed in on Coda. "Go on, little one."

She giggled and ran to the Seeker, who picked her up with a swooping motion that made her squeal with delight.

"Has she attempted to fly yet?" Coda grinned at her creators, well aware of the trials grounders had with a flier sparkling.

"No." And Jazz's expression make it clear that Bladesinger didn't need any ideas on the matter. "You like to climb though, don't you, Brightspark?"

"Climbing's fun!" she giggled as Coda tossed her in the air, catching her easily. "Flying's fun," she squealed in delight, her little wing struts flapping wildly.

"You will make a delightful sister for my Flashdrive," Coda trilled at her.

"Who?" Bladesinger asked as she 'landed' again, having decided that questions were all right here as well.

"My youngest creation," he smiled at her with a touch of sadness and tossed her again, this time a bit higher. "He's almost two vorns old now."

She squealed in delight, wing flaps wiggling excitedly. "Flier too?" She demanded, clearly pleased with the idea of having someone close to her own age like her.

"Yes, a near-Seeker," he grinned, pleased with her response. "If your creators permit, he can come out to play with you."

Pleading golden optics snapped to her creators in an instant. "Please."

Prowl chuckled, breaking what little was left of the formal mood. "Yes, it is good to play with others."

She squealed as Coda commed the servant taking care of his creation and a moment later a youthful white Seeker-kin came out with the seekerling, who was only just getting a full coat of armor on his primary frame. Glints of blue, white and red where visible, hinting at a bright coloration in his future.

Bladesinger trilled a greeting, twisting around in Coda's hands to inspect the newcomers, her golden optics bright and the bond with her creators on fire with excitement. She was set down, as was Flashdrive, and they made a direct line for each other, bare wing struts flitting and flaring in a curious, delighted greeting.

All the adults watched with pleasure as the pair greeted each other with a myriad of clicks, trills and coos before moving to touch, exploring how their frames were similar and different.

* * *

The excitement in the room was thick enough to be felt against ones plating. Rumors had been circulating for several orns, whispers that the Lord Heir and his bondmate had been seen visiting the suite of the Lord of the House of Shining Sun, and that the stranger from Simfur had been carrying a sparkling.

They had not been seen leaving, and neither the sparkling nor the Heir's bonded had been seen since. But this was the first family gathering since the rumors had started, and if the sparkling had been accepted by the Lord of the House than it would, by tradition, be presented that morning.

Which meant that everyone made sure they were on time and present, even those that occasionally managed to escape in the name of duty or illness.

Private comms and hushed whispers really started to fly when the Lord and his mates and young creations appeared without any sign of the Lord Heir, and the Lord bypassed his seat to stand at the front of the room, where he could see all and be seen by all.

It was only then that a soft tread announced the arrival of Prowl and his mate, though all attention was actually on the sparkling in Jazz's arms, looking around the large number of assembled mecha with the bright golden optics so many of the House sported.

Jazz resisted the instinctive urge to nuzzle her comfortingly as he felt the first signs of distress creep across the bond they shared, reaching back across that same bond instead with comfort, love, and confidence. ~It's all right brightspark. This is your family.~

~Sire and carrier family. Grandcreators family. Flashdrive family. This _lots_.~ Bladesinger replied, slightly intimidated by the sheer number of frames and fields and attention.

~We are. They are.~ Jazz whispered softly in return. ~They all are as well. You are of the House of Shining Sun. _This_ is the House.~ Jazz's mental sharing made it clear that the House included everyone in the room, from Bladesinger's most intimate circle to her most distant cousin, and in truth had nothing to do with the building that they walked through.

Across the weaker bond with her sire support and affection flowed, along with a silent backing of what her carrier said. ~My kin. Your kin. You may rule this House one orn. They are nothing to be feared.~

Bladesinger finally calmed when it became clear that neither of her creators were in the least concerned, Prowl striding confidently through the gathered mecha and his bondmate right on his heels, stopping an exact step behind Prowl when they reached the front of the room and Bladedrift.

The Lord of the House waited a moment for things to settle before drawing himself to his full height, grayed wings spreading regally as he addressed his Heir.

"Who comes today?"

"I, Prowl, Lord Heir to the House of Shining Sun of Praxus, come with my First Bonded and my first creation."

Gold optics met gold optics, solemn and certain, as though this was a dance they had performed a hundred times, and not the first. "And why have you come?"

"To present my creation to her Lord and House, that she might be seen and recognized as the Heir Apparent." Prowl answered smoothly.

"What is the designation of the creation you would have recognized, Heir Prowl?"

"Bladesinger, creation of my spark and carried by my bondmate, for the glory of line and House."

"Present her."

The sparkling had been listening to the whole exchange, and her sharp young processor had already noted the similarities between now and the orn she had met Bladedrift. ~Go to grandsire?~

~That's right brightspark. Go to grandsire, be good for him, and then we can have breakfast. And I promise you'll like breakfast.~ Jazz told her gently.

~Treats?~ Bladesinger asked, even as Jazz stepped forward and handed her over to the Lord. She looked at up at him and trilled a greeting, spreading her bare wing struts in a display everyone that had wings, be they for flight or display, knew well. _I am here. I am not afraid. I am not a challenge._

~Very good treats.~ Her carrier promised as he stepped back to stand beside Prowl and wait for the 'judgment' of their creation.

Bladedrift shifted the sparkling easily, her size and weight familiar after several orns of spending time with his newest grand-creation. Only once she was comfortably settled did he turn so that everyone could see her. Her wings spread further as her bright golden optics met many others in a calm look from one side of the room to the other. A clear statement that even at this age she was aware of her relative rank.

"The House recognizes its newest member. Welcome Bladesinger, creation of Heir Prowl and his First Bonded. May Primus bless you, and may you bring glory to the House."

"Primus bless," echoed from those gathered as Bladesinger was returned to her creator, settled in Prowl's arms for the trip to their seats, where another surprise waited for their creation.

Jazz's sire smiled at them, his optics moving proudly over Bladesinger and his creation.

~Grandcarrier?~ She asked, taking in the non-Praxian with a field so similar to her carrier.

"Grandsire, brightspark." Jazz said with a smile for his creator. "Crossbeam, my sire."

"Hello, Crossbeam," she chirped at him, fluttering her wing struts in what would be a display greeting once her wings were fully armored and decorated.

"Greetings, Bladesinger." Crossbeam smiled, pleased at being able to meet what was also his newest grand-creation. The fact that she was removed from his House was irrelevant to him, and his smile only grew as she came to him willingly, allowing her carrier to sit as well. It was noted, and pleasantly so, that the Lord Heir Prowl easily accepted his first creation, his heir, to be so close to Crossbeam, a relative outsider.

"You are part of the House too?" Bladesinger tilted her helm as she sat near the edge of the table between Jazz and Crossbeam.

"No, little one." Crossbeam answered easily, keeping her attention as Jazz fixed a plate for her, pulling things from the platters passing by that he knew the sparkling would like. "I am from a different House, the House your carrier was from before he came to live here with your sire."

She seemed to chew on that concept for a while, then focused on her sire. "Will I leave this House?"

"It is unlikely, though not impossible," Prowl responded smoothly, only a faint twitch of his elegant sensor wings betraying how unhappy he was with the idea. "If you are mated to one of higher rank, you will join their House. If you are of greater rank, they will join your House. As long as you are my Heir, it would be very unwelcome news if you were to bond into another House."

Calm and love flowed over the bond from his mate. ~Peace, love. Her fate may yet lie out of the House, but that is vorns from now. She's not leaving us any time soon.~

~I know, love,~ Prowl replied with a mental sigh and stilled his wings. ~I know. It makes it no easier to think about now.~

"Okay," Bladesinger piped up, curious at the tension she didn't understand. "I don't want to leave."

Her declaration earned a laugh from both Jazz and Crossbeam as Jazz set the plate down where Bladesinger could reach it. "I am very glad to hear that, brightspark. Your sire and I don't want you to either."

She grinned at them and picked up a rust stick with a stiff jelly center and munched down on it. Everyone within range was watching her more than their own meals or conversations.

"Will they always stare?" she asked blatantly, causing her sire to nearly choke on his confection trying to fight down a bark of laughter.

The started and embarrassed expressions of the mecha who had been caught almost set Jazz off as well, and it took a moment for him to regain his composure enough to answer her. "No, Bladesinger, they won't. Everyone has just been looking forward to seeing you finally."

There was no reason for the sparkling to be party to the layers of meaning in Jazz's words. It was enough for her to have her question answered with a truth that her young processor could reach itself from what had happened.

"Once they are used to you, they won't look as much," Prowl added, still deeply amused even if he wasn't showing it. "Then they won't start staring again until you are a mechling."

"Why then?" Bladesinger asked, just remembering to finish chewing the bite of rust stick she was working on before speaking.

"Because then they will begin to look at you with interest in being your lover, or possibly your mate or bonded," Prowl smiled at her.

Only Prowl was privy to Jazz's feelings on the matter, his mate bristling at the mere suggestion of anyone pursuing their creation pouring over the bond.

Then the expression on Bladesinger's face had Jazz and Crossbeam laughing again, Jazz's sire going so far as to reach out and tweak her nose gently with a warning. "Be careful, or it might freeze that way."

"Keepsafe would fix it." She stuck her glossa out at him and munched on the rust stick.

"I imagine she would." Crossbeam agreed, guessing that the sparkling was referring to the House medic. Slowly he started working his way through his own meal, savoring every moment of just being with his creation and his grand-creation, and knowing they were well and happy. It was far more than he'd dared hope for when he'd learned of his creation's impending bonding. Prowl and being a creator seemed to agree with Jazz well.


	14. A Second Creation

Prowl's hands ghosted over Jazz's plating as they lay together, content to simply be in each other's company for now. As intensive as their time together had been before Bladesinger had been presented to the House, in much of the last vorn it had been that intensive apart. Prowl to his duties and ever more intensive training and travels as the confirmed Lord Heir that would very soon take over his House. Jazz was back to combat training and many joors an orn with Spark Crest learning the duties, rights and limitations of a First Bonded and all that could eventually be handed off to newer bondeds, mates and if Prowl officially selected a Chosen or two from among them.

The past decaorn had been a pleasant moment of calm in whirlwind of activities. They had their duties and training, but Prowl was in the compound and they'd spend every recharge and most meals together. Yet it had also given Prowl enough time to _think_ , and to long for things that he shouldn't want.

Jazz snuggled closer to his bondmate, nuzzling at Prowl even though his processor was rapidly slipping toward a state of recharge. ~You're brooding again.~ He noted quietly, indirectly asking what had been eating at the mech he loved over the past decaorn as he considered various causes for his mate's emotional state.

He had heard of no real trouble facing Prowl. 

Bladesinger was doing well, her frame strong and her processor sharp for a sparkling of only a vorn.

Jazz had thought that he had been learning his duties to satisfaction, and the weapons master had even indirectly complimented him on his dedication just last orn.

~Yes,~ Prowl murmured, bringing the subject of the brooding squarely into the private matters realm. ~I still desire things I should not, can not, desire.~

Jazz roused more, letting concern and love flow across the bond and doing his best to bury his own lingering insecurities. He received a nuzzle and wave of reassurance for his trouble.

~After watching you carry Bladesinger ... I wish to carry even more, not less,~ Prowl barely whispered across the bond. He'd taken a small solace much of his existence in being told that once he had a mate and creation or two his desire would fade, that he felt he wanted to carry because without a mate it was the only way he'd have an heir. He'd always doubted the truth of it, but he trusted, hoped, it would be true.

He felt his bondmate come fully awake, processing what Prowl had just told him and trying to put it into a context he could understand. Fear, doubt, and a bit of hurt snuck across the bond before Jazz spoke again, tone carefully neutral. ~Why?~

Instead of words, Prowl sent a collection of moments from his life. Wondering, even as a young mechling, what it would be like and finding the thought appealing. Being drawn to larger, stronger mecha. Mecha who his traditions said would make fine sires and high-status mates. Being scolded, lectured and even taken to Keepsafe over the persistent thoughts until he learned to keep them to himself or hide them as interest as a sire-to-be rather than as a carrier. The moment that set the course of his functioning when he listened in on his creators arguing as to whether his desire to be a carrier was too strong for him to be a viable Lord of the House despite his natural talents. How he had ruthlessly crushed all hint of the desire from that orn on, right up until he first felt Bladesinger in his spark.

Jazz's fear calmed instantly with the realization that the entire desire was Prowl's spark wanting, and not any findings of shortcomings in his bondmate or their creation.

~You will be a good House Lord.~ He whispered with conviction. He had seen his mate, knew the drive and desire that lived in Prowl and would one orn carry on the greatness of the House of Shining Sun.

But that orn was not here yet. ~Why not?~

~A Lord can not carry,~ Prowl murmured. ~The risks are too high.~

~Lord _Heir_ Prowl.~ Jazz said, enunciating every bit of it over the bond. ~You are not yet Lord of the House.~

~Soon,~ Prowl murmured sadly. ~Very soon. Long before she is an adult.~

~True.~ Jazz was forced to agree. Even though the current Lord of the House looked well enough, perhaps even better now that his Heir was named and confirmed beyond argument or doubt, there was still no credible chance that Bladedrift would last one century, much less the three to four Bladesinger would need to reach her final upgrades.

Prowl was silent for a long time as he simply held Jazz close.

~You wouldn't object?~ Prowl eventually asked.

No, he wouldn't. Deep in his spark Jazz doubted that he could ever object to something that his bonded wanted, and never to something that Prowl so clearly needed. ~What are you thinking?~ He asked quietly, pressed against Prowl and secure in the others arms.

~It would cause an uproar...~ Prowl hesitated giving voice to his thought, even in the privacy of their bond. ~Break tradition, unwritten laws, my sire's orders. It could cost our rank, all of us.~

Jazz didn't answer for a long time, considering every angle.

He cared little for politics or rank. A younger son from a minor House he had long been faced with the fact that his influence would be behind the scenes or earned on merit. Tradition held a stronger weight in his spark, but once more he had come from a House built on merit, and entered one that still held similar values.

He knew of the unwritten laws, and the legitimate reasons behind them.

He loved Prowl. Loved his bondmate. He had not forgotten everything that Prowl had given him, the effort the Praxian had put into making sure that Jazz was more than accepting- that he was happy. If Prowl wanted this, needed this, Jazz wanted Prowl to be happy.

Two reservations reared up in his spark. One he instantly identified as selfish. Prowl carrying, another sparkling, would disrupt their lives once more, change the small things that Jazz had come to treasure. Like the quiet evening they had managed to steal tonight, dismissing Prowl's slaves and Steelplate, having dinner with Bladesinger before playing a game. Cleaning her up and putting her down for recharge, Jazz singing her to sleep as he did every evening.

Selfish.

But the other reason...~And Bladesinger?~

Prowl was still for a terribly long moment.

~She would face the downgrade in status comparable to mine,~ he said slowly. ~As young as she is, as she would have to be, the more specialized training would not have begun yet. She would be very unlikely to rule, but all other options should still be open to her. I would not be disowned. Not for creating a new life for the House. Kindling with an outsider, a pleasurebot or the like, is a far worse act. Those mecha and their creations are still part of the House. Shamed for their lack of control, but here.~

~And ours?~ Jazz asked, pushing a little because he _needed_ to know. ~They won't take her away?~

~I can not find any precedent for doing so,~ Prowl said cautiously. ~I can not imagine that any of my kin would do that to us. The next Lord _can_. But none of them would. None would dare cross me that severely.~

Jazz vented softly, taking the reassurance to spark and weighing reservation with trust and belief before reaching a decision. He tilted his helm to kiss Prowl gently. ~I am not sure that this is a _good_ idea...But if you wish this, I will follow wherever it leads.~

A shudder passed down Prowl's frame as his spark surged intensely enough it nearly knocked them both off line. The joy he couldn't hide, couldn't even comprehend fully, crashed through them as Prowl's spark reveled in the news that it wanted so badly.

~We will plan,~ Prowl managed to gasp, processors and frame both still reeling. ~Determine when, and if, this can be done.~

~Want you to be happy.~ Jazz whispered, knowing that Prowl would be the one doing most of the planning. ~As you have made me happy.~

Love, for Prowl and for Bladesinger and for the small world they could occasionally retreat into that was all their own.

~Thank you,~ Prowl smiled and tipped Jazz's face up for a gentle kiss as the surge settled. In it too was a small flare of pride from Prowl that he had indeed calculated and executed the campaign for Jazz's spark successfully. Pleasure too, that in getting what he wanted he had given this important mech what he wanted as well.

* * *

* * *

* * *

With three large razor boars and their nine piglets deactivated for tearing up energon farms in the area, Prowl and Jazz relaxed on the simple but soft berth in the largest suite of the House of the Shining Sun's hunting lodge. Their frames pinged and steamed as they cooled from overload, Prowl spike still deep inside Jazz's valve and giving every indication that the Praxian was up for another round. 

Instead, Prowl took out a data cable and gently stroked the cover of Jazz's primary data port.

As closely joined as they were already, Jazz's field flickered curiously. Prowl had never offered to hardline either, only making him wonder a little more as the cover slid away, offering his bondmate complete access. There was the small jolt he was used to from medical examinations when Prowl plugged in, but that's where the similarities ended. Where medics kept him carefully out, Prowl carefully invited Jazz in, offering him access to the Praxian's processors.

~I believe this is the most secure way to discuss an emotionally charged subject,~ Prowl explained, his voice distracting Jazz briefly from his first true look at how Prowl's powerful, highly structured processors worked, and the stunning number of threads going on at the moment.

Jazz shifted his frame slightly, settling on the berth as his hands worked small circles on the Praxian's frame. 

~Are you always this busy?~ He asked, impressed and amused in equal measure before his processor settled to match his frame. ~What did you want to talk about?~

~I'm quite relaxed at the moment,~ Prowl chuckled. ~Our second sparkling. I have investigated and analyzed the risks more fully. I believe that my original assessment of the risks was grossly exaggerated.~

Here, inside Prowl's processors and with their bond open, the spike in Prowl's excitement was unmistakable. So too was at least the basics of many of the threads of thought and analyzation going on in the background. While it ranged from a political analyses of the Prime and Senate to the probability of any given mecha Prowl was aware of to organize a successful revolt of more than five orns to the inventory in the House's various stores, the bulk were centered on the sparkling they were discussing.

~Precedence?~ Jazz asked, curious as to if it had been done before and what the outcomes had been. ~What have you discovered?~

~Three Lords of a warrior House have carried without repercussions in modern history, including one from my spark-line. Four generations ago, Lord Psycrest carried a set of twins. Officially, they were carried by a mate, her First Chosen. However, the first news reports of the time indicated that she carried them.~ Along with the words came a torrent of data.

~In addition, if we time it for within the next ten vorns there is an 89.3401% probability that there will not be any cause for me to be called on for a dangerous duty before the separation. Almost more importantly, I discovered that with every spark merge where there is not an active intention not to kindle, there is a 0.00101% probability of kindling by accident. It may not sound like much, however intending not to kindle is not something we were told to do. Given we merge an average of once every two orns, there is a 2.327704% probability of kindling per vorn that we are not attempting to do so.~ Prowl was nearly vibrating with excitement at the odds. ~With my well-known desires to carry and how much I enjoy being penetrated during interface, it is actually quite reasonable for me to carry once.~

Jazz took his time sorting through all of the data and information that he had just been given, knowing that Prowl would allow him as much time as he needed to understand and analyze what he needed to know from it.

~With your abilities I can see some having doubts of _you_ ending up the one sparked as an accident, but we could still try and pass it off that way.~ Jazz mused after a bit. Even as slim as the chance was, it was not unreasonable with the amount of merging they did, in no small part because it was one of Jazz's preferred forms of interface.

With a sigh he nuzzled Prowl gently. As much as he wanted his bonded to have this chance and the experience he so desperately craved, he had another concern. ~If you carry one, will _once_ be enough love?~

Prowl kissed the top of his helm. ~It will have to be. Keepsafe will make sure I am incapable of carrying a second time.~

~Will you be able to live with that?~ Jazz concern now shifting from what outside forces might do to his bonded to fears of what Prowl might do to himself.

~Yes,~ all the certainty of a lifetime of being denied and the sheer pragmatic nature of Prowl's spark and programming was behind the statement. ~As badly as I want to carry, it is not the reason I exist.~

Acceptance flowed from Jazz. For a moment he struggled within himself, weighing his words carefully before he made this promise. ~It is mine. As many as you want.~

Thanks, warmth and affection-devotion wrapped around Jazz's spark in response. Prowl tipped Jazz's helm up for a soft kiss full of warmth. ~It may be why we were bonded, my love, but it is not your reason to exist. Not to me. Even if Bladesinger is the last you carry, you are still my bonded, my Chosen. We will stop when you have had enough, or Keepsafe says it is no longer safe for you. I can always acquire a breeder if I want more and you do not carry them.~

 _Love-affection_ flowed across the bond in return, followed by a hesitant curiosity and a little worry. ~Is there something you are hoping for with this one?~

A swirl of emotions and thoughts came before Prowl actually responded, some more coherent than others. ~I ... hope for a flier, strong, fast, smart.~

What he didn't say came through with the imagery. Seeker-kin.

There was a flicker of hope for twins, or even a triad, but with that was the knowledge that they were difficult and dangerous to carry, especially for a first-time carrier.

~Is there something wrong with Bladesinger?~ Jazz asked, trying to understand.

Prowl's processors, primary and secondary, came to a screeching halt as he cycled his optics in shock, too stunned by the question to even reply at first.

~ _No_!~ the assertion was sharp and firm. ~She is perfect.~

Relief met his answer, even as Jazz flinched away from the intensity of the response, and apology flowed over the connection.

It was enough to calm Prowl from his fixation and distress, his processors going back to their multi-threaded thoughts in the background. ~Why would you think that I might find fault with her?~ he asked more gently, still genuinely concerned.

~She is a flier,~ Even if she was an Ariel instead of Seeker-kin. And the rest...~She's smart.~ Jazz was thoroughly convinced of the strong and fast part in his own spark as well.

~I want mine to be as good as she is,~ Prowl said gently. ~They're simply important traits in this House.~

Jazz relaxed, still pressing against Prowl for comfort and in apology. ~Have you thought through what can go wrong, and what we are going to do if something does happen?~

~Yes,~ Prowl's tone softened with the sense that he had thought through far more than Jazz could even contemplate. ~The worst case would be if it crippled my spark to the extent I could no longer fight. I could not become Lord of the House, or even maintain my rank as a political. I would become an invalid, a burden on the House. I am uncertain how long I could stand that.~

~Never a burden to me.~ Jazz argued softly, full of conviction. ~You would never be without a purpose.~

Prowl nuzzled him, the kiss gentle and full of affection. ~As you would never be to me. The odds are so minuscule I could not justify them with a number, even though there is the possibility, as it has happened before.~

Jazz accepted that. ~Other concerns?~

Prowl stroked his hands down Jazz's back. ~The worst likely risk is being shamed before the House for a lack of self-control,~ he murmured. ~While it will have no legal or status repercussions, it will hurt.~ He admitted, acknowledging that he was sensitive to some social influence.

Jazz merely offered the sensation of a shrug in return, enjoying the pleasant touch and allowing some of his attention to focus on that. As long as there would be no lasting damage on any level, being scolded meant little to him when he didn't feel as though he had done anything wrong. And from his point of view, giving his bonded what Prowl needed was about as far from wrong as he could get.

~It will be well worth it,~ he nuzzled Jazz's face up for a kiss that was a bit more heated and rolled his hips, stroking the nodes inside Jazz's value with his spike.

Jazz moaned into the kiss, valve rippling around the thick spike as playfulness that was all Jazz crept into the connection. ~So worth it that you might care to start trying now? After you finish what you've already started, of course.~

~Yes,~ Prowl actually growled, the excitement and desire flaring brightly before he rolled his hips more firmly and used his hands to encourage Jazz to join the movement.

His bondmate actually laughed, a sound of joy and happiness as his obediently followed the pace that Prowl set, falling into that place of sharing pleasure that was welcome and familiar to them both.

* * *

* * *

* * *

~Will you please go see Keepsafe?~ Jazz asked, knowing he was pushing but truly concerned for his bonded. Prowl had been acting rather out of character for almost a decaorn, but it was the near slip during weapons training today that was finally driving Jazz to take more aggressive action. ~It would make me feel better.~ He added, not above using whatever leverage he had when the situation called.

Prowl gave him a mixed put-upon and annoyed look, but vented. ~All right,~ he consented and pinged the healer's comm.

~Thank you.~ Jazz murmured, very relieved, though he kept that buried as he walked closer to Prowl, field reaching out to caress his bonded with love and affection.

::Yes, Heir Prowl?:: The professionally calm voice of the House's senior medic in response to the inquiry ping. ::What can I do for you?::

::A general exam. I have not been feeling well for several orns,:: he downplayed it, though he knew she'd realize just how serious it was by the fact that he was calling. ::No event I am aware of caused it.::

::I have time right now, if the heir is available.:: Only the immediateness of the response was any indication of how concerned the medic was.

::I am,:: Prowl responded, motioning Jazz to follow him as he walked outside and transformed. ::I will come to the office shortly.::

The ward was empty when they arrived, but Keepsafe still motioned them in the direction of a private exam room. "This way, please, and up on the berth."

Prowl nodded slightly and laid down, allowing her access to his primary dataport without complaint.

"What have you been experiencing and when did it start?" Keepsafe asked as she initiated a connection. She intended to a complete set of scans anyway, but it was always nice to have a place to start.

"I burn through fuel at an increased rate. It has been difficult to get up in the morning and I desire recharge earlier in the evening. I have had moments of vertigo," Prowl began the list. "Today I almost slipped during sparring. The first odd sensation ... six orns ago, I believe."

Keepsafe made careful notes of all that as the medical sync completed and she began her scans. "And you have suffered no injuries or experienced any other sort of traumatic event that might have caused the symptoms you are experiencing?"

"The last injury I recall was the training slip that twisted my left wing," Prowl said with easy certainty. "That was more than four metacycles ago."

Keepsafe frowned as her initial systems scans came back clean, only reflecting the changes that Prowl had already informed her of. In fact, his energy and fuel levels indicated that it would not be a bad thing for him to refuel now.

With a frustrated sigh she disconnected and stepped back. "If you would lay back on the berth so I can run a full frame scan?"

She looked at Jazz while Prowl complied. "Have you experienced any injury or systems malfunctions that you have not come to see me about?"

Jazz looked slightly startled at being addressed about his own health, but shook his helm. "Not since you repaired that frayed cable in my leg." He left out the part about the lecture he had received about coming to see her for what looked like minor plating damage, since fixing the underlying plating would have been the work of a couple of kliks, instead of the several joors the cable repair had taken.

She hummed to herself, focusing once again on Prowl as she started the in depth scan.

Prowl tried to relax and be still for her. He detested this, but for his mate's comfort he would endure her prodding. He knew that it would not end until she had found the cause, even if that meant calling in specialists from outside.

The only outward indication they had that she had found anything was the tension that suddenly rippled through her frame, a wave that only someone used to paying close attention would have noticed, for her voice was deceptively level and calm when she spoke. "If the heir would retract his chest armor so that I might take a clear scan of his spark?"

Every cable in Prowl's frame went taunt, the battle protocols roaring to life with objections. With difficulty he suppressed them and initiated the transformation sequence that only Jazz had been witness to for a long time. He reached out to Jazz though their bond, seeking comfort as much as offering it.

Comfort and loved flowed back immediately, Jazz's assurance that whatever she found, if there was anything, whatever it was, he was here and they would face it together.

"Lord Heir Prowl." There was an edge to the medic's voice when she spoke again, muted frustration and distress. "Did you intend to become sparked?"

Prowl jerked upright, his wings flaring in the shock that was written clearly on his features. "No," he almost managed to keep his voice even, the emotions assaulting his processor almost too much to take. "I'm carrying?"

"Yes, Lord Heir. And have been for a little over a decaorn." Keepsafe responded, venting deeply as she centered herself and waited a moment for the news to sink in completely.

She also needed to figure out how she was going to continue this discussion with a mecha she had known since he was sparked. Last time he had still been a mechling and the discussion was with his creators rather than him. The discussion with him had been on them; she had merely done as ordered.

Prowl's chest plates closed and overly bright golden optics gradually settled to the normal level as they locked with Jazz's visor. ~Love....~

Jazz glanced in Keepsafe's direction but didn't really wait for permission as he stepped to the edge of the berth and wrapped his arms around his bondmate. ~We did it.~ He whispered, pride flowing across the wide open bond, bringing with it the reservation Jazz still held.

Prowl murmured a wordless sound, nearly a sob of joy mixed with the reality he knew this would cause as he rested his forehelm against Jazz's. ~Yes, we did. We will make this life worth all it might take to raise it.~

Keepsafe waited, letting the two speak between themselves and settle some before she spoke again. "Prowl. Jazz."

Golden optics focused on her, Prowl's manner one of thinking clearly and focused on the news and its repercussions. "Is the spark strong?"

She hesitated, clearly struggling with herself. "It is. Strong and healthy, already fast."

"And politically undesirable," Prowl said for her, his features serious. "I know. I know why I should never carry. It does not change the fact that I will not condemn a potential warrior of the House before it has a chance to prove itself."

"You know I still have to recommend termination, for the good of the House." Keepsafe said softly, looking at them both and bracing herself for the reaction she was sure was coming.

Prowl cycled a deep intake slowly, his hand closing on Jazz to steady his mate as much as himself. "I know. I will listen to the arguments that this life should be ended before it begins."

Keepsafe sighed, frustrated with her future lord. "I have nothing to tell you that I know you haven't already heard before, and are going to hear again from the Lord of the House once I inform him of your condition. And you know I have to tell him." She considered for a moment. "Unless you wish to inform him yourself, and plead your case."

"I will tell him," Prowl decided. ~It is the best way.~ "What should I do in the meantime?"

Keepsafe turned and opened a cabinet, pulling a cube of medical grade energon from it and offering it to Prowl. "Drink this, now. Keep a close watch on your fuel levels. Do not over strain yourself in your duties. Delegate as many of them as you can." She looked at Jazz, making it clear that she was putting some of the responsibility for Prowl's obedience on his bonded. "And I will await further instruction. And be warned, Lord Heir, if I hear nothing from your sire within the next three orn I will have to inform him myself."

"I understand," Prowl said before drinking the cube with smooth efficiency and stood. ::Sire?:: he commed his creator.

There was a short pause, a confirmation that the connection had gone through and been accepted before any answer came back. ::Prowl. What is it?::

::I must speak with you in person,:: Prowl's formal tone betrayed his nerves. ::Something has happened that requires your attention.::

Another pause, this one slightly longer. ::I am not currently engaged in anything that cannot wait, if you wish to speak now. If not there is time after the evening meal.:: Bladedrift replied.

::I would speak with you now, sire,:: Prowl decided, pushing his nerves down as he stood and handed the empty cube to Keepsafe. ::Where should I go?::

::My quarters. You will be expected.:: The communication ended smoothly, Bladedrift as calm and collected as always.

Prowl was less so for good reason as he and Jazz made their way to the main house and the Lord's suite. Jazz reached out a hand, stopping him once they arrived at the entrance to the Lord's room and turned his bonded to face him, kissing Prowl gently. ~I'm right behind you love.~

~Thank you, love,~ Prowl responded, his armor shifting, fluffing and then settling before they were shown to the Lord's office. "Sire," Prowl bowed his wings and helm.

"Prowl." Bladedrift shifted, setting aside what he had been working on and clearly giving his creation and Heir his full attention. "I am most interested to know what is so important that you felt I must learn about it in person, and rather urgently at that."

"I went to see Keepsafe," Prowl spoke plainly and bluntly despite his nerves. "She informed me that my weaknesses of late were caused by a newspark."

Golden optics flared, traveling from Prowl to Jazz, and then back to his Heir. "Am I to understand that _you_ are carrying a spark?" He wanted to be sure, very sure, of what he was being told.

"Yes, sire," Prowl's wings sank.

Bladedrift stood slowly, pacing around the desk so that he was face to face with his creation. "Why?"

Prowl looked up, meeting his spire's optics firmly. "It was not planned. It happened."

"And you are going to take care of this." Bladedrift said firmly, his tone very clear how he was expecting Prowl to deal with the situation.

Prowl's wings trembled faintly but he stiffened his frame and met his creator's optics. "If I had any intention of that I would have done so without bringing this up. The spark is strong. It will serve the House well."

"The House cannot afford the risk!" Bladedrift snapped, wings flaring as he towered over his creation, drawing himself up to his full height, and Jazz was suddenly treated to a glimpse of how the Lord had been in his prime. "If you must have another creation and break any tradition, spark your mate again. For that you will be applauded, if anything. In this there is shame, and more risk than can be justified by simply giving the House another warrior."

"The risks are minimal," Prowl drew himself up as well after a momentary cower. "If there is shame in strengthening the House, it is time to reassess the traditions for their value. We are not at war. Nor will we be in the next vorn."

"You are so sure of the unknown. You are a _Lord Heir_. You create. You do not carry. Find someone else, if your bonded is refusing to fulfill the contract." The Lord of the House was clearly angry, but underneath the anger were signs that anger was giving way to desperation, as though Bladedrift knew he was losing the fight, but was not yet willing to give up.

"That ability is _why_ you insisted on making me Lord Heir against all recommendations," Prowl suddenly hissed, stepping into his sire's personal space and lashing out with his field, forcefully linking them to express his emotions fully. "I will bear the consequences of nurturing this life Primus has gifted me with."

As suddenly as it had come the anger that fueled the elder mech left, his sensor wings falling as he looked in his Heir's optics. "You would risk everything for chance?"

"Yes." Prowl said simply but firmly, his own manner gentling as the challenge to him eased. "Primus caused this. I will not destroy it."

Jazz slid closer to his mate as the lord backed down, subtly reaching out to take Prowl's hand in his own. Prowl was more right than either of them cared to admit, with how casually they had been trying, and that being between parting ways when Prowl was called away.

Slowly Bladedrift made his way back to his seat, almost more falling into it than sitting. "I wish you would not do this. But if you are decided, I will not stop you."

"Thank you, sire," Prowl said softly, much of the tension fleeing him. "I will listen to any argument against permitting this life."

"You will listen," Bladedrift acknowledged. "And come up with a counter for any and every argument brought to you."

"I will try to, yes," Prowl acknowledged the simple truth of his determination.

Bladedrift vented softly, optics focused on his creation and flickering with the myriad of emotions rushing through his system. Concern, fear, worry...acceptance, hope, and pride. "Seeing that your normal duties are attended to will be your responsibility." The lord said slowly.

"Of course," Prowl canted his wings with full acceptance. "Would it sooth your distress if it was not known that I carried this sparkling?"

"It would make you less of a potential target." Bladedrift considered.

Prowl hummed, Jazz privy to how rapidly his processors were working, but Bladedrift was well aware of the signs of his creation planning on the fly. "What of permitting me a sabbatical to the monastery at Sunrise Pass? It would not be the first time I have gone there for a vorn or six. When we return, both sparklings would be old enough to know whom to call their carrier in public," he motioned to Jazz with a wing.

The lord straightened slightly at the idea, optics dimming as he considered, running all the parameters. "You have not been in quite some time." He mused. "There is nothing pressing, and it would not be unreasonable for you to take your mate and your creation there for a time."

"Then if my Lord permits, I request a six vorn sabbatical to the monastery at Sunrise Pass for myself, my bonded and our creation," Prowl said formally.

"Granted." Bladedrift decided.

"Thank you, sire," Prowl relaxed, grateful beyond measure that he had thought of something that would make this go smoothly. "We will prepare to leave within the metacycle."

Bladedrift nodded slowly. "Was there anything else you wished to discuss with me?"

"No, sire," Prowl canted his wings respectfully. "Keepsafe is expecting your orders in regards to my condition."

"I will see that she receives the proper messages." Bladedrift said, pulling his work before him again. "If something else occurs to you that is not urgent, I will be available after the evening meal as well."

"Yes, sire. My apologies for the disruption," Prowl bowed his wings before turning to leave. 

Jazz bowed as well, proper respect to the Lord of the House, before turning and following his bonded from the study. He was silent for the short walk from the lord's suite to their own quarters, processing everything that has happened and the multitude of new developments.

Going away somewhere safe until the sparkling separated was something that had never occurred to him, but now that the idea had been proposed the more he thought about it the more he liked the proposition. It certainly was the answer to most of his concerns, for this way only a small number would know that Prowl was the one who was sparked while he was carrying, his mate would be under minimal strain and in no danger.

Still, he wished to know more of where they were taking their existing creation, and said as much when they arrived back at the safety and privacy of the quarters that were theirs.

"Tell me about the monastery?" Jazz asked as they settled on the couch in their private lounge.

Prowl hummed and relaxed, drawing Jazz against him to enjoy his warmth and field. "It is a small one with only a score of monks. A couple are close kin, though most are not. It is a place many of us go when we need space to meditate and think, whether because of trauma or youthful questioning. Some go there to retire, when they can no longer fight. I believe you will like it there. It is deep in wildlands."

Anything that was deep in the wildlands was enough to catch Jazz's interest. "And you intend for it just to be the four of us?" He asked after thinking it over some.

"Yes," he nodded, capturing Jazz's lips in a soft kiss. "It is a place of living simply, as far away from court and politics as possible while remaining civilized. They make their own energon, their own furniture, their own buildings and all other needs. While there, we will as well."

Jazz hesitated, hand running over Prowls chest, over his spark and the newspark next to it. "And you believe that we can do all of that ourselves, and keep up with Bladesinger, with you carrying?"

"Not entirely," he admitted. "We would have to bring useful goods to exchange for much of our duties. Easily done, and easily accepted given my condition an reason to be there."

"What about taking an extra set of hands?" Jazz suggested quietly. He felt Prowl's tension sharpen reflexively.

"A servant?" Prowl said uneasily. "In a monastery?"

"Steelplate. To watch over Bladesinger and make sure she doesn't get underpede or disturb anyone." Jazz replied. "Sparklings aren't a common thing either, but we aren't leaving her here."

"Absolutely not," Prowl agreed, the bond emphasizing just how unwilling he was to leave their four vorn old behind. Then he hesitated. "You really don't think we could manage her?"

"Right up to the point that we have two." Jazz said, reminding Prowl gently of how much work it was to take care of one newborn. He shared too memories of how draining it was to have another life drawing on your own even though the rewards were worth the strain, the stress of having your bonded away for any length of time even in a safe place. "Unless you believe we will find help there."

"I know we could," he wavered, torn between the humiliation of bringing a servant and the humiliation of making demands on their hosts. Eventually he sighed. "It doesn't seem right, but bringing him, at least eventually, seems the lesser of the wrongs."

"He can help out or do as he pleases when Bladesinger isn't the focus of his attention." Jazz pointed out. "And even with the best of intention there needs to be someone to focus on her when this one separates. Speaking of which-"Jazz looked at Prowl. "Is there a medical trained mecha there?"

"Several, though for the separation a specialist is likely to be called in if Keepsafe doesn't manage to come," Prowl said easily, sure of that much. "It will be a safe, quiet few vorns for us."

Jazz snuggled against him, comforted by his mate's confidence, and amusement flickered through his field as he smiled at Prowl. "So when are we going to tell Bladesinger? Not until we are safely away, I would assume?"

"Definitely not until we're out of the compound," Prowl chuckled. "Though we should make a quiet trip to have this spark blessed and confirm that we are both the creators. It will reduce questions of heritage when we return with a second sparkling."

A small shudder ran through Jazz's frame from the memory of having Bladesinger blessed, and the _knowing_ that had been in the priest's optics when she had looked into his. "Definitely."

Prowl smiled. "I'm glad you aren't dreading it this time," he purred softly, nuzzling his mate into a kiss that slowly, very slowly grew in heat.

"Worth it." Jazz whispered, hands stroking over Prowl's plating and desire crept into his field as it wrapped lovingly around his bonded.

"Very much so," Prowl shivered in delight at the touch. He returned it, stroking along Jazz's back as they kissed. ~She is amazing.~

Jazz's back arched into the touch as he leaned down to nuzzle gently at Prowl's chest. ~And this one will be as well. A playmate to keep her sharp.~

"Yes," Prowl moaned deeply, his plating heating quickly at his mate's touch. ~Want you.~

"Glad to hear that." Jazz murmured as he continued to kiss and nuzzle at Prowl's chest. ~Share sparks? Want to be able to feel this spark.~

"Yes!" Prowl moaned and arched into the contact, his chest plates unlocking.

Jazz's spark flared in response, his lips finding and meeting Prowl's in an eager kiss as he shifted around to face his mate.

~Mine.~ He moaned, only to jump when an a loud and very familiar squeal hit their audios from the direction of the entryway.

~Yours,~ Prowl moaned even as he locked his chest plates at the squeal. ~Soon, love. As soon as she's doing something else.~

"Bladesinger," Prowl smiled and reached out as he twisted to offer his arms to their creation.

~Going to hold you to that.~ Jazz told him, pushing a little of the lust he felt for his mate at Prowl before shifting to welcome their creation between them.

Once she was settled on Prowl's lap Jazz reached out, tweaking a wing strut, now covered with thin armor but not yet looking like a wing very gently. "And what have you been up to Brightspark?"

"I painted myself all bright, and wrote Steelplate's designation on him, and had a great bath," she trilled, her wings fluttering playfully in her good mood.

"Really? And what colors did you use this time?" Jazz asked as he exchanged an amused smile with his mate.

"All of them!" she giggled. "We needed color."

The response had both of her creators chuckling in amusement as they continued to quiz her on the activities of her orn, the three happy and content in each other presence.


	15. At The Monastery

Jazz took in the small room, a bare space not much larger than the double berth, small table, sparkling berth and meditation mat crammed into it. Despite how peasant-level it was, the way Prowl relaxed, his field all but oozing good memories and happiness, it was difficult not to smile.

Jazz gave in, setting Bladesinger down so that she could investigate the room and so that he could come up behind Prowl, wrapping his arms around his mate in a warm embrace. "Is this going to be big enough for four?" He teased gently.

"It will be cozy," Prowl actually purred, turning his helm for a kiss. "Nothing at all like our suite in the compound."

"What a shame." Jazz murmured as he obligingly kissed his mate, the field deeply entwined with Prowl's revealing that Jazz considered it no shame at all.

Bladesinger gave a squeal of joy when she found the window was low enough for her to climb up on the sill.

"No attempting to fly," Prowl focused on her. "The landing will be most painful."

Jazz's concern shifted to their sparkling in an instant, easing only when she settled for looking out after directing a pout in their direction. ~We are going to have to watch her around that.~

~I'm going to put a net in front of it,~ Prowl decided. ~It won't stop her if she's determined, but the casual thought will be halted.~

~Good idea. And we should come up with something a little more solid for at night.~ Jazz suggested.

~Agreed.~ Prowl considered that for a moment. "Do you like the view, Bladesinger?"

"Yes." She bounced, still forming wings flapping in excitement as she looked out over the area surrounding the monastery. "Explore?" She asked, looking back at her creators hopefully.

~Either we go with her now, or she will tonight,~ Prowl chuckled as he slipped away from his mate. "Yes, we can explore."

"All right brightspark." Jazz swooped her up and nuzzled at her helm playfully. "But before we go, what are the rules when we are exploring?"

"Ask before I touch anything." Bladesinger replied, reciting the rules she knew well. "Stay in optic range. And don't bother mecha I don't know."

"Good spark." Jazz smiled at her before looking at Prowl. "Lead the way?"

Prowl nodded, running through what might be interesting to the sparkling and his mate. "Perhaps begin with the fabrication shop?"

"What does it do?" Bladesinger demanded as they walked, her entire frame wiggling in Jazz's arms as she looked around, trying to take in everything at once.

"It is where mecha make furniture and tools from metal and crystal," Prowl explained easily. "The fabrication shop here is only a room."

"Wanna see." Bladesinger chirped in confirmation, then giggled as Jazz bounced her in his arms. 

"Slow down, brightspark. We're going to be staying for a while. You'll have plenty of time to see everything," Jazz chuckled.

"Yes, we are going to be here several vorns," Prowl agreed as he lead them to a building that was little more than a roof and six poles holding it up. Inside there were two soft gunmetal gray mechs, both Praxian builds like Prowl but with only two sensor wing panels, their only distinguishing features being the different trim and chevron colors they sported. "Monk Warbler, Monk Etrin," he caught their attention from their projects. "If I may introduce my mate and creation?"

"Of course, friend Prowl," one with a melodious voice looked up from where he was crafting a shelving unit from metal and crystal. He smiled a warm greeting to the family and came to greet them. "I heard of your arrival," his light blue optics shone with delight. "You must be Jazz, and this darling Bladesinger."

Jazz nodded his helm in respect as Bladesinger chirped "Hello", greeting the monks happily. She had no reason to be afraid of strangers when her creators were not upset and she was safe in her carrier's arms.

She craned her neck to look past him. "What are you making?"

"I am crafting a new shelving unit for the library," Warbler said smoothly, motioning to the metal tower with smooth crystal shelves. "Monk Etrin is crafting a chair for Lady Brightmoon in Iacon."

"Monk Etrin has taken a vow of silence," Prowl explained him not speaking for himself.

Bladesinger seemed slightly confused as to why someone wouldn't want to speak, but after a moment she dismissed it to study the objects more closely before passing judgment in her usual sparkling manner. "Pretty."

"Thank you, Bladesinger," Warbler smiled at her while Etrin canted his wings in a display of the same.

"Are there any projects suitable for me coming up?" Prowl asked, canting his wings in answer to Etrin's silent request to go back to work.

"There are several repairs that will need to be done, and I will always welcome your optic for detail and perfection in finishing my work," Warbler said as he turned to return to his project. "You plan on staying for several vorns?"

"Yes, a final respite before I am Lord," Prowl nodded.

Jazz had moved a little closer, studying the care and precision with the objects were being constructed. "Maybe there will be something I can help with down here as well."

~The crystal carving is impressive.~ He added privately to Prowl, tone one of deep respect.

~ Etrin is arguably the finest crystal carver in the Praxus territory,~ Prowl said with a hint of pride.

"I am sure there is," Warbler smiled at him. "There is always work for willing hands, and always a mentor for a willing processor."

Jazz was visibly excited at the prospect. His carving had always been a hobby, something to do with his hands, but never something that he had been able to find the time to work on improving. "Thank you."

"Is there a facet to crafting or material that interests you most, friend Jazz?" Warbler asked with a willing expression.

"Carving." Jazz admitted. "I've only ever done small things, for fun mostly."

"In crystals or metal?" the monk asked easily, his own hands working to sand the edges of the crystal shelves smooth and rounded.

"Crystal. I worked with whatever I could find laying around or harvest where it wouldn't leave damage behind." Jazz was extremely focused on the monk's work, to the point that it took Bladesinger squirming in his arms again to remind him that there was still more to see.

~There will be plenty of time to work with our hands, love,~ Prowl's reassurance held entirely too much of the Praxian's love of doing so for this to be anything but one of his great guilty pleasures.

"If you would like, we can talk at the evening meal," the monk offered, noting the sparkling's squirming. "Or when your creation settles down for a nap."

"No nap. Wanna explore!" Bladesinger declared, her tone somewhere between defiant and pleading as she looked from one creator to the other.

Jazz chose to ignore her for the moment as he answered Warbler. "I would like to talk again, Monk Warbler. At dinner, if it is convenient."

"Of course, friend Jazz," Warbler smiled at them both, then looked at Prowl. "It is good to see you again, friend Prowl."

"It is good to see you again as well, Monk Warbler, Monk Etrin," Prowl canted his wings with the politeness of one to an equal. "We will continue to explore for now, Bladesinger."

The sparkling chirred happily, and then as though remembering her manners her small wing flaps flickered and she waved goodbye to the working monks.

Jazz smiled at her before turning his attention to his mate. "Where to now love?"

"There is the energon collection and processing plant, the gardens and the forge," Prowl said easily as they walked out, glancing at the projects in various states of finish as they entered the open space once more. "The monastery is largely self-sufficient. They sell their crafts for what they can not produce themselves."

"Gardens?" Bladesinger repeated, homing in on that one particular location. To her they were places of fun and laughter, where her creators played with her and she could be outside.

"Yes, gardens, though nothing like the gardens you are used to," Prowl smiled at her and shifted his direction slightly. "These gardens are for growing materials for the fabrication shop and trade."

Jazz followed his mate, as curious as their creation. He had seen fabrication gardens before, each of them set up in such a way as to produce the most of the cultivated materials based on available resources. 

* * *

Jazz cradled Bladesinger close, smiling as she snuggled against his chest, clean and content after dinner and a visit to the communal wash racks. He could feel over the bond how worn out she was, thoroughly ready for recharge after so many new experiences and mecha in a single orn. Still, there was one piece of news that he and Prowl hadn't shared with her.

~Still planning on telling her the truth before we put her down for the night love?~

~Unless she is too tired to comprehend,~ Prowl nodded, reaching out to stroke their creation softly. ~Better sooner than later.~

She arched into the touch, contentment and love pulsing over the bond that she shared with her sire as well, the connection full of the complete trust of an innocent spark that as long as her creators were there everything was _right_.

~She awake enough to understand, though it might still take it a klik or so to register.~ Jazz confirmed. ~And I am all for telling her tonight so that she can recharge on it. Tell her in the morning and we'll spend the rest of the orn with her bouncing like someone spiked her energon.~

"Bladesinger?" Prowl spoke to get her attention. "Do you wish to know the real reason we are here?"

The sparkling straightened in Jazz's arms, optics brightening as she focused on her sire. Her helm tilted to the side questioningly as she asked. "Not here to rest?"

"We are here to rest," Prowl smiled at her and continued to stroke her back. "Particularly your sire, who is carrying a newspark."

Confusion rippled through her field as she started to piece that all together. She was old enough to have encountered several carrying adults among the House, and knew that meant soon there was another sparkling in the House. "Sire is carrying?" She repeated.

"Yes." Prowl nodded.

"Carrier's not carrying." Bladesinger said slowly, looking at Jazz.

Jazz shook his helm, nuzzling her gently. "No brightspark, I'm not carrying this time. But your sire is. So you are going to have a new brother or sister soon."

"All mecha can carry," Prowl added. "Jazz will usually carry, however this time Primus has chosen to bless me with the new life."

Everything finally clicked into place in the sparkling processor, excitement flaring across the bonds she shared with her creators. "Newspark for me to play with!"

"Yes, Bladesinger," Prowl trilled at her. "A sibling and playmate."

Joy washed over them, Bladesinger reaching out to Prowl, asking to be held. "Can I feel?"

Prowl chuckled. "Not for metacycles yet. Not even I can feel it yet. Wait until my frame beings to change shape."

She pouted at the denial before snuggling back against Jazz, optics dimming slightly.

~I think that might have been the last of her energy for the orn.~ Jazz commented to Prowl, speaking softly even over the bond.

~Not a bad thing,~ Prowl nuzzled his mate into a lingering, chaste kiss while he stroked their creation. ~Let's get her settled ... I wish to indulge in my mate.~

A small shiver ran through Jazz at the suggestive tone, and as the kiss ended he stepped back, nuzzling Bladesinger softly as he began to sing.

The soft, familiar melody soon had the little femme deep in recharge, not even twitching as Jazz crossed the room and placed her in her own small berth. He stood there a moment longer, making sure that she was settled down and just watching her as she slept. He leaned into the warmth of his mate as Prowl stepped up behind him and slid his arms around him.

~What would you enjoy the most, my love?~ Prowl purred deeply along the bond as he shared what he was hoping for.

Jazz purred softly at his mate's desires, sharing his own desire to be taken as he turned his helm, the kiss between them much less chaste. ~Your spike and your spark, love.~

~Yours,~ Prowl shivered in anticipation that was not the least bit forced. He drew Jazz towards the berth, a simple platform with a shaving filled mattress. Prowl sat down, his spike cover sliding open but his spike still inside its housing.

Jazz claimed his mate's lips in a kiss, deep and passionate, before starting to work his way down Prowls' frame. Gentle kisses and knowing touches started at Prowl's face and neck, tracing a path down his chest with extra attention paid to the plating over his spark that now protected two lives very dear to Jazz. A teasing glossa brushed over abdominal plates, stopping to tease the seams just above the Praxian's spike housing.

A low, soft sound, not quite a moan, escaped Prowl as his hands found Jazz's helm, zeroing in on the sensor horns to rub them affectionately.

For a moment Jazz stilled, a purr vibrating his frame before he leaned forward, lips closing over Prowl's spike housing. His glossa slipped forward to tease at the tip encased in the latch holding it, coaxing the latch to open and expose the entire tip to Jazz's seductive ministrations.

~Very good,~ Prowl moaned silently, his frame still but the pleasure and how much he was anticipating this flowing clearly through their bond and Prowl's field.

~I had a good teacher.~ Jazz teased in return, slowly coaxing the spike out of it housing, his glossa teasing and circling the tip. He knew from experience not only how good this felt, but exactly what got Prowl off fast or slow; what hit the physical pleasure and what was erotic without stimulating him too much.

Strong white fingers continued to stroke Jazz's horns, encouraging and sharing the pleasure despite how one-sided this could look. Jazz continued to purr softly as the spike pressurized, lips and glossa working skillful to pull those moans and soft sounds of pleasure from his mate. His hands worked over his mate's thighs in a counterpoint to the pleasure of his spike, working to build the pleasure slowly.

Gradually Prowl's hips began to twitch, rolling into Jazz's mouth as Prowl's helm fell back with a low moan thick with the pleasure dancing through his frame.

A shiver ran through Jazz at the sound, field blending more with Prowl's as he sucked and licked, taking the spike deep into his throat each time he slid his helm down. Every touch, every sound, was only meant to push the pleasure higher, nudging his mate in the direction of release. He knew Prowl didn't have much longer to last when the strong fingers on his helm began to twitch randomly, marking the moment when Prowl lost his ability fully coordinate his frame.

It was then that Jazz hummed, adding even more stimulation as his fingers went from teasing lightly over his mates hips to sinking into the joints themselves, finding the sensors buried there and stroking them with just the right amount of pressure.

That was all it took. With a silent bellow, his vocalizer muted to keep from waking their sparkling, Prowl stiffened. His hands closed on Jazz's helm, pulling him against his interface array as hot transfluid exploded into his mate's mouth and down his throat.

Jazz moaned, shivering at the rush of the charged fluid as it slid down his intake and the wash of his mate's pleasure through bond and field. He continued to suck and work Prowl spike as his mate's overload crested and gradually dissipated.

As Prowl's hands slid from Jazz's helm his frame sank back on the berth, his armor extended and vents wide open, trying to dispel the intense heat built up in his systems.

Rather smug satisfaction radiated from Jazz at the current state of his mate, smiling as licked his mate clean and then climbed to the berth beside the cooling frame, fingers trailing lightly over Prowl's armor. ~Good love?~

~Very,~ even Prowl's mind-voice was slurred as systems reset and gradually came back to optimal, contentment radiating off Prowl on every level.

Jazz stilled, looking down as his mate with a smile. ~Still want more?~

~Definitely,~ Prowl rumbled and reached up to pull Jazz in for a welcoming, somewhat sloppy kiss. ~Just give me a moment.~

Eager amusement rippled across the bond as Jazz reached out to stroke a sensor wing lightly, content for his mate to take as much time as he needed. He could feel it in Prowl's field when he'd recovered enough, as well as in the intensity of the kiss.

~Spike me, before I ravish you?~ Prowl suggested hotly.

~I think that sounds like a very good plan.~ Jazz answered, shifting to allow his mate to rise and leaning in for another kiss. ~While I still have the chance to enjoy your valve.~

That made Prowl freeze and focus fully on his mate. ~I promised you would have all the influence you wanted. I meant that.~

~I know.~ Jazz answered, hand stroking lightly over Prowl's chest as he looked into his mate's optics, revealing just how much that promise meant to him. ~ And I know your hopes for this creation of ours, the only one you are likely to ever carry. I cannot give you the Seeker-kin you desire. And a strong bond is what I wish for most.~

Prowl kissed him soundly, grateful for the gift. ~Your bond with this creation will be as strong as we can make it.~

Jazz moaned, thankful for the understanding. He nuzzled Prowl gently when the kiss broke. ~And just what would you like this time?~ He purred softly.

~Take me, deep and hard, my love,~ Prowl moaned as his valve cover slid open. Despite being reluctant to move, he shifted and rose to his arms and knees, his aft in the air and his wings spread wide and back. 

Hands traced over his wings first, ignoring his valve to build the tension and anticipation, Jazz leaning over his mate. ~How deep? How hard?~ He whispered softly.

Prowl shuddered in pleasure and desire. ~As much as you can,~ his valve cycled hard around the empty space inside it. ~Stretch me.~

Jazz growled softly, possessively, and seated his spike in Prowl's valve with single thrust. The pleasure that rippled into him from all sides nearly drew a ragged moan from him. He could feel Prowl's pleasure in the slickness around him, the calipers that rippled along his shaft, across their bond and through meshed fields.

For a moment he was still, savoring every sensation. Approval, desire, love- it all drove him onward finally as he pulled his spike out to the tip and thrust back in. The pace this time was hard and fast, with none of the slow teasing of his attention to his mates' spike. The pleasure that arched Prowl's back, tightened his valve and drew silent keens and cries of bliss was more than enough reward for Jazz to indulge his mate in this, yet always in the back of his processors was the knowledge that every time he indulged Prowl, Prowl would indulge him twice over. It was a glorious cycle that both enjoyed every moment of.

Jazz had barely settled into a punishing rhythm when Prowl's trembles warned that he wasn't going to last much longer. Jazz groaned, wanting to feel his mate overload again, the friction between their frames only adding to the pleasure swirling across every other connection as he reached up, one hand playing over a sensor wing.

His face was buried in his mate's back, muffling his grunts and groans of pleasure as he pounded into his mate. He felt more than heard Prowl's engine roar, almost screaming as Prowl overloaded. Energy crackled across the winged frame, lashing out at Jazz across their plating and across the slick, conductive gel smoothing the slide of spike and valve.

It was enough to bring Jazz to his own overload, charged transfluid surging from his spike to flood Prowl's valve as he muffled his cry of pleasurable release, channeling it all back to his bondmate.

When cabling relaxed its taunt hold in his frame Prowl collapsed, his knees sliding back and arms forward. His armor and vents open and pumping out scalding hot air.

Jazz just caught himself from collapsing on his bonded, pulling back as Prowl slid down on the berth. He arranged himself so that he was snuggled against Prowl's side, one hand tracing lightly over the nearest wing as they both recovered.

Prowl could only hum in contentment, what little of his frame wasn't completely lax trembled in the faint echoes of their overload. ~Going to miss that terribly,~ he murmured.

Jazz nuzzled gently at him, soothing and sharing in the warm afterglow of a satisfying overload. ~Going to miss having you like that.~ He agreed softly.

Prowl hummed, still utterly strutless. ~Mmm, might still be an option, you know. It's the transfluid, not the interface or overload, that affects the protoform.~

~We'll see.~ Jazz murmured in agreement, still stroking the sensor wing gently. ~You might be wanting that energy for other things.~

It took Prowl a long moment to pull the subtext out of that. ~I'll always have time and energy for you. Coda doesn't wear me out like this.~

~So you are planning to look for other influence.~ Jazz commented. He stretched over Prowls frame, enjoying the warm closeness. ~Good.~

~We proved that we can create a good Aerial,~ Prowl murmured, snuggling into his mate's warmth. ~Seeker-kin ... that requires a lot of Seeker, not just looks. Coding and more. As my sire's bonded, there can be no challenges to the sparkling's heritage if he's the Seeker.~

~A creation of our sparks with Seeker influence and Bladesinger to fly with? We'll rule the skies.~ Jazz teased before growing serious. ~I am sorry I cannot give you this too, love.~

~All I ask is that you love this creation,~ Prowl murmured, turning his helm to kiss Jazz and the bond alive with thanks Prowl hadn't been expecting. ~No matter who contributes, _we_ will raise it as ours, and only ours.~

~With the others.~ Jazz agreed, the _feel_ that was Bladesinger rippling across the bond and the _hope-promise_ of others to come. ~Take me?~ Jazz asked, his helm resting against Prowl's after the kiss.

~Yes,~ Prowl rumbled to all of it, especially eager for those young lives, real and anticipated. Lazily he shifted to his side and claimed a kiss that slowly deepened as he recovered his energy. ~Whenever you desire.~

~Always desire you.~ Jazz responded, his field brushing against Prowl's in a deep desire to be taken, reminded that he was wanted and loved to the very core of his spark.

Prowl nuzzled him into another kiss. ~Merge?~ he half apologized, asking if his mate was going to be satisfied with all he really had the energy for.

~Love your spark best of all.~ Jazz answered, moaning into the kiss as Prowl gently rolled him to his back. ~So long as you have the energy.~. Their chest plates unlocked in unison, easily familiar with this much-enjoyed act. There was no hesitation as their chests came together. Their sparks, one of rich forest green with blue tints of two shades and the other of ice blue with a deep green swirl, reached out in welcome.

~I have the energy,~ Prowl promised. Even as their sparks rejoiced in their reunion, Prowl reached out with a thought-memory, showing Jazz how to send energy directly to the tiny ball of energy. Not just to strengthen the new life, but to strengthen the creator bond that meant so much to Jazz.

Jazz latched on to the memory, striving to learn quickly what came instinctively natural when one was a carrier. It distracted him from the merge itself, at the same time revealing to Prowl just how desperate Jazz was to be connected with their creation, to create a bond so that the spark would always know that it was loved and cared for, never to be put aside or rejected.

~They will always be loved,~ Prowl caressed his bonded. ~As will you. They will have many kin who will dote on and protect them as well, even the warriors.~

Jazz fell into the warmth and comfort of the merge, wanting and needing it, needing the easy way it was offered without reservations. The energy that swirled back in return was full of the love and devotion, to his mate and his family. This was bliss in its purest form, the open affection, desire and care, the promise of it continuing, the way his feelings were returned.

And now, though it was not yet aware, there was a third life they had created between them, feeding and growing strong off their emotions and willingness to share.

The urgency faded, soothed by the sharing in a place where there could be no lies and Jazz willingly surrendered to the pleasant warmth, lost in everything that was Prowl and the love they had built.

* * *

"Friend Prowl, friend Jazz," Warbler's warm, melodious voice greeted the couple as they entered the fabrication shop after the noon meal the next orn. "And welcome little friend Bladesinger."

"Hello." Bladesinger chirped in reply as she smiled at him from Jazz's arms, optics bright at the sight of a mech that she already saw as a friend.

"Friend Prowl, I set a workspace for you," Warbler said smoothly.

"Thank you, monk Warbler," Prowl canted his wings politely, his very field expressing how _relaxed_ this place made him.

"Friend Jazz, you mentioned you would like to learn how to work crystal?" Warbler canted his wings at the young noble.

"I would very much like to do so." Jazz answered with an easy smile. Even after only having been here for an orn this place felt good and safe, and the fact that being here made his mate happy, allowed Prowl to _relax_ in a way that not even time away at the hunting lodge did, only added to that feeling of peace. "And I would deeply appreciate anything that you would be willing to teach me."

The monk smiled and motioned them to follow to a two workspaces set up side by side. One contained a sturdy but elegant stand to support concentric spheres of crystal and metal of many colors, each carved and etched. The shell of another crystal sphere, this of a glimmering deep green that bore a marked resemblance to Jazz's own spark color, lay in two halves on the workbench. Without a word but with a happy sound Prowl sat at the bench and began what Jazz could only describe as a form of meditative ritual as his mate's very spark centered itself and smoothed the intense actively of Prowl's processors by setting up the station in precisely the right way.

"Friend Prowl has never grasped how to create, though he is a master at following any design put before him," Warbler said with obvious pride in his student.

Jazz smiled at that at the sight. His mate was creative, just in his own ordered way. A thought tickled at the back of Jazz's processor, and he filed it away for later consideration as he looked at the other workstation, then at Warbler. "Is there a place where she can sit and play out of the way?"

"Of course," he smiled and motioned to the space between the two workstations. "Would she like to play with crystal scraps?"

There was a surge of eager curiosity over the bond and Jazz had to laugh. "I think she would, if you have any that you do not have other plans for. And maybe an old polishing cloth that outlived its useful life?"

"Of course," the monk smiled warmly at the sparkling. "What is your favorite color, Bladesinger?"

"Green." The sparkling replied instantly, and then just to make sure there was some choice as well she added "Blue is pretty too!"

Warbler chuckled and took a couple steps to the workstation and riffled around in a box before producing an oddly shaped bit of crystal in a rich, bright green. A polishing cloth soon followed before he turned back and offered them to her.

Small hands took the objects eagerly, small chirps escaping Bladesinger as he carrier settled her down on an open space.

Jazz waited for klik, giving her time to study both objects. After a moment of consideration he reached out to his bonded, brushing against Prowl and focusing on Bladesinger. He watched in delight as cloth and crystal were inspected in turn, each tested for weight, feel, and texture. The crystal was rolled from small hand to hand, allowing it to catch and reflect the light before bright golden optics looked up at Jazz curiously.

"Try this brightspark." Jazz instructed gently, picking up the cloth and rubbing the crystal to smooth out a rough surface in demonstration.

Bladesinger took the crystal back when he was done, a sound of delight escaping her at how much brighter the spot was now. She reached out for the cloth Jazz still held. "I want to try! I want to try, please." She added, catching herself when the object wasn't handed over right away.

With an approving smile Jazz gave it to her and watched as she want to work, making sure she was settled before he turned his attention respectfully to Warbler. "What would you have me do?"

"Do you know how to split a crystal into a plank?" Warbler asked, motioning to one of the large clear crystals near the workbench.

Jazz followed the motion, studying the large crystal critically as he admitted that he did not. "I've never worked with anything on this scale before."

Warbler nodded and patiently showed him how to break the large, thick, regular crystals down to planks for the shelving.

Jazz was a quick study, helped by the fact that he was truly interested in what he was doing and really did want to learn. Soon he was able to mimic what Warbler was showing him well.

"Do these already have a purpose?" He asked as they worked, gaze sliding over the crystal in real appreciation for the material he was working with.

"They are for the shelving system I'm building," he said, watching as Jazz finished splitting the crystal into lengths as long as the mech was tall. "Now, if you can polish them to a transparent shine."

Jazz lifted a plank, shifting it carefully. "Grit polish, so that they are smooth, then finish them with a cloth?" He asked, wanting to be sure he that was the correct process before starting on the first one.

"Yes," Warbler nodded, turning to his own work while Jazz focused on his task. 

The joors passed smoothly, and Jazz found himself humming softly as he worked as Prowl became happier and more relaxed and Bladesinger played with her crystal and cloth. Occasionally Jazz cast a look at his creation or mate and smiled at the contentment in the very air around him. He was nearly oblivious to time passing until Warbler placed a hand on his shoulder. 

"It is almost time for supper, friend Jazz. Do you wish to draw your mate back to the real world?"

Jazz looked up from his work to Warbler, than to where his mate was seated at the workstation, peacefully content. "Honestly? No." He had to smile at the monk. "He doesn't get this sort of rest often. But he won't want to miss a meal. Or that." He nodded in the direction of their sparkling, Bladesinger having dropped into a light recharge, crystal clutched in one small hand.

Setting his tools aside carefully Jazz stretched, then crossed the short distance to stand behind his mate. ~Love? Time to go clean so we can join the others for dinner.~

He felt Prowl jerk sharply internally, though physically there wasn't even the smallest tremor. ~So soon?~ he glanced at Jazz, then at his work. Reluctantly he began to put his project into a resting status. Despite his reluctance to stop, there was the pleased contentment radiating off him that Jazz relished deeply.

~We've been here for several joors love. Long enough for our creation to decide to take a _nap_ on her own.~ Jazz pointed out as he stroked Prowl's sensor wings gently. ~Maybe we can come again tomorrow.~

Prowl tipped his helm up for a kiss after sneaking a look at Bladesinger. ~We can after supper ... if I don't drag you back to our quarters and ravish you.~

~If we can get her to go down again...~ Jazz field as he purred softly revealed just how appealing her found the idea of spending personal time with his mate again.

~She'll rest, eventually,~ Prowl's engine rumbled eagerly. ~I want your valve, your spark. Fill you with my essence.~

Jazz had to fight down a whimper of _want-need_ at the suggestions, pressing himself against his mate's back instead to allow for a very tight blending of their fields. ~Want to be yours again. Any time. All the time.~

~Good,~ Prowl purred deeply. ~I can now, if you can be quiet. They've left us alone.~

A shiver ran through his mate at the suggestion, Jazz checking on Bladesinger before answering. ~Now and later?~ He requested shamelessly, the desire for his mate running deep.

~Now and every time we can,~ Prowl rumbled, turning in Jazz's embrace to hold him and claim his mouth, ravishing it thoroughly as he slid his spike cover open. ~Love your pleasure.~

It was a sharing that ran both ways, Jazz getting as much from bringing his mate pleasure as from receiving it from the only mech that had ever claimed him, and the only mech Jazz ever wanted to claim him. Willingness suffused all of him, evident in the way he welcomed his mate's glossa to the perfect way their frames fit together. ~All of it- yours.~ 

With a smile Prowl pulled away slightly and turned his mate around, pushing him with a gentle strength to bend over the table that still contained Prowl's nested sphere project. ~All mine, love you,~ Prowl rumbled, rubbing his pressurized spike against Jazz's aft.

Jazz's entire frame trembled in anticipation, hands latching on to the edge of the table for grounding. The cover to his valve slid away, valve already clenching and dripping eagerly.

Love and trust swirled across the bond, and with it just a hint of apprehension. A public place, with their creation just napping almost in arms length...~Love you.~

~As I love you,~ Prowl shuddered and slid into that delightful valve slowly, savoring every little quiver, tingle and rub of sensor against valve. ~You feel so good.~

Jazz had to hold back a moan of pleasure, instead channeling every surge of sensation from being stretched and filled back along the bond to his mate and sharing the feeling. In reply Prowl channeled the intense pleasure of Jazz's valve, slick, hot, tight and rippling around his spike. With it came the joy at what this act had helped create in Bladesinger, and the intensity of how Jazz's devotion made Prowl feel.

~Yours. Only yours. Always.~ Jazz promised, the vow coming from his very spark and far deeper than the moment.

Prowl leaned forward, pressing against Jazz's back as he rocked his lips, building the charge gradually but steadily. ~I'll give you anything in my power,~ he promised. ~Anything you desire.~

~I have you.~ And Bladesinger, and the newspark growing next to Prowl's own. Love. Family. A place where he belonged and was making a difference. Prowl had already given him the two things Jazz had needed most in his existence- love and a purpose.

Affection and acceptance flowed in reply, Prowl grunting softly as he thrust, the pleasure building from his spike to infuse every circuit in his frame.

Heat rolled off of Jazz's frame, warming Prowl as he filled his mate. ~So close.~ Jazz whispered over the bond, losing conscious thought in the shared warm pleasure. ~Feels so good.~

~Yes,~ Prowl moaned against Jazz's plating, his hips beginning to jerk in a harder rhythm as the charge built to a crescendo. He didn't resist the steady roll of a blissfully sweet overload as it overtook him.

Jazz couldn't completely muffle the soft moan when the first wash of heated, charged transfluid struck the deep sensor nodes of his valve, tipping him into gentle overload mirroring his mate's.

There was something special in this kind of sharing, a sharing only meant to pleasure and reaffirm feelings each held for the other, and the deep bond between them. Peace filled Jazz's spark as he rode out the waves of energy rippling through his frame as it relaxed onto the workbench. Prowl's weight on top of him was a warm, welcome blanket of contentment.

"Creators need a nap?" their creation's voice chirped at the pair.

"Possibly, brightspark." Jazz managed to answer around his start at being caught by their creation, Prowl's spike still seated in his valve and the very welcome warmth of his mate against his back. ~I think we've just been caught.~ He commented softly, wondering how much their creation had been witness too as he finished pulling himself together.

~It won't be the last time,~ Prowl groaned, caught between sated, amused and embarrassed. ~At least she doesn't understand yet.~

"Bladesinger hungry first," she said firmly. "Then creators nap."

Prowl couldn't help but laugh, his frame trembling in mirth at her declaration even as he made the effort to depressurize and retract his spike before moving. "Yes, Bladesinger," he agreed before pushing himself upright. There was no hiding the lubricants and paint transfers on his groin, but at least his spike was neatly tucked away and the cover in place.

~I can distract her for a moment while you wipe up, love.~ Jazz told him as he focused on Bladesinger. "We'll clean up and then you can refuel. It's time for us to join everyone else for dinner, just like last orn. But let me see what you did with your crystal first."

Reminded of the stone clutched in one small hand Bladesinger scrambled forward offering the now shiny and very smooth object to her creator. "All pretty now. Just like yours." She declared as she handed it over.

"So it is." Jazz agreed, admiring it in the light, watching how the crystal refracted the light. ~She's good at this love, even if she's not doing it intentionally.~ Jazz paused as he considered. ~Did Warbler mean for her to keep it, or only something for her to play with while she was down here?~

~She may keep it, if she wishes,~ Prowl said easily as he made quick work of wiping the worst of the evidence off himself. ~It was scrap crystal, destined to be turned to dust and used in the garden to feed new ones. Keep an optic on that. If she continues to enjoy working with crystal, it is an appropriate craft for her to learn.~

"Would you like to keep it brightspark?" Jazz asked Bladesinger, smiling as she nodded eagerly. He looked around, gaze settling on another bin next to the one Warbler had pulled the crystal from earlier. ~Is that scrap wire? Or cord even?~

~Scrap metal, so there should be wire in it,~ he said and walked over, making quick work of finding a couple loops of discarded copper wire to hand to Jazz.

"How about this, brightspark?" Jazz asked, holding the sparkling's complete attention as he worked, weaving the wire into a loop with the crystal firmly wrapped into the weave.

"And now," He caught her hand and slipped it on, smirking with pride as she pulled back and studied the small band.

"Pretty!" she squealed and reached out to hug her carrier, who picked her up to carry her for the walk to the public washracks. It was something that Jazz was sure had been a shock for Prowl the first time he'd cleaned up there ... or possibly not, given Prowl's battlefield experience. His sire had told many stories of being on campaign with the Prime and before, and it was not uncommon for even the ranking officers to have to wash in public washracks; only the Prime was guaranteed to have his own.

Jazz set her down and turned on the spray, smiling as Bladesinger dove under the solvent wash. Bath time was something that had yet to lose its appeal, especially once she had graduated to the 'big mecha' washracks. The fact was something Jazz was thankful for, recalling his own aversion to washing up as a sparkling.

"Alright Bladesinger, come here." He ordered.

The sparkling bounced into arm reach, obediently moving around so that her creator could scrub off the dust and residue of the crafting studio.

They could both feel the pleasure, pride and amusement Prowl felt through his field as he cleaned himself up, then went to work on Jazz's back. Ever efficient, even when it wasn't strictly required. They had plenty of time and their finished was never expected to be at the level it was at the House compound.

Jazz arched into the touch, purring across the bond at the care from his mate as he directed Bladesinger back under the spray to rinse. ~Dry her off while I finish up?~

~Certainly,~ Prowl agreed smoothly, enjoying, as he always did, getting his hands involved. It was still novel to him to have someone he lived with trust him to _do_ things, rather than just think. Even his own warriors often forgot that he was highly skilled on the battlefield in his own right.

* * *

It was late in the afternoon when Prowl looked up from the bookfile he had been reading, Bladesinger's excited voice drifted up through the open window from where she was out exploring with Jazz. The newspark was starting to draw on him enough to notice now, and it was sometimes easier to allow his mate to take their creation out and let her burn off some of her excess energy in the afternoons when she could no longer be distracted by quieter activities.

He didn't bother moving as another presence approached, the quiet field that just touched the edge of his own an old and familiar one. "Monk Rift," he greeted the intruder with a friendly flicker of his wings. "What brings you here?"

"The return of the file I have completed to the library, and the acquisition of a new one." The small monk replied easily as he crossed the room. There was silence in the room as the file was replaced in exactly the place it had been taken from with long familiarity.

Rift took his time in selecting a different one, though there was not truly anything in the library that the monk had not already read. He had been there far too long, the monastery a part of him as he was part of it. Selection in hand he returned to stand by Prowl, pale blue optics turning to look out the window at the mech and the sparkling crossing the yard below.

"Your sparkling is a happy creature. Her presence has been a welcome light here." He observed softly.

"As unwelcome as the pressure to create was for both of us, she is a delight," Prowl smiled warmly. "Jazz is an exceptional carrier and devoted creator."

"Devoted to his creation." Rift agreed, optics flickering to study Prowl. "And to his mate?"

"Very," Prowl nodded. "He is far more than I expected, even from one I had courted myself. That this was a quickly arranged blind bonding ... I'm still amazed I did so well."

"You did so well?" Rift repeated, prodding deeper. "You seem to compliment each other well."

"Yes," Prowl smiled, his wings shivering faintly in pleasurable memories. "It was a pleasant surprise that his needs are so simple to fulfill. All he wanted was a purpose and someone who cared about him." He reached for an ever-present energon cube to sip from. "Everything that makes us such a good pairing were not things that were sought."

"Indeed." The gray monk settled in a nearby seat, studying Prowl with a knowledgeable optic. "Surely there is more to him than that?"

A low hum and smile came first as Prowl watched his mate and creation play. "He is _young_ ," Prowl said softly. "Less than half my age," his gaze flicked to Rift, sure the elder understood that Prowl considered himself too young still. "Smart, skilled with a blade, a quick wit and good education. He'll be an exceptional partner on the battlefield in a few centuries when he's finished training with Master Ziariace. Not quite as skilled in politics, though his natural sociability is helping him make the allies he'll need."

"Primus gave you what you needed." Rift observed. "Even if it was not entirely what you were looking for."

"Yes, what I needed, what I wanted and all I hadn't dared hope for," Prowl agreed, his voice soft and affectionate. "He's well worth all the work to keep what we have going."

"The best things in functioning always are." Was the quiet agreement. "And the future?"

It took a lingering moment for Prowl to drag his processors out of the philosophical mode he'd sunk into to the more practical end he knew his mentor in the monastery meant.

"More siblings for these two," his hand came up to touch over his spark as he gazed at the pair playing. "Teaching Jazz how to ask for what he wants and how not to be uneasy around those of great rank. I am sure we will be called on to fight. Politics are simply too unstable to be peaceful."

Prowl sighed softly. "The future will be a long and varied one, Primus willing."

Rift nodded in agreement. Though the fighting of the outside world rarely touched the monastery, they were not oblivious to the fact that things outside their small pocket of peace were not always good. A small frown crossed his features as he considered the rest of what Prowl had said. "Your mate _fears_ you?"

"Not that I am aware of," Prowl said after careful consideration. "He is not sure of himself. His upbringing was ... questionable ... when his sire was away."

"He was abused?"

"Not explicitly," Prowl said carefully. "From what I have gathered, it was more towards disapproval and ignoring him."

The old mech nodded, reading more in what was not being said than what was being voiced. "Just as bad, to a sparkling who knows no better and believes what their elders tell them as truth. Primus bless you, friend Prowl, in the difficult road you have chosen."

A small smile crossed Prowl's features. "Thank you. It will be worth the difficulties. He has tremendous potential."

Rift studied the young mech had known since he was a mechling and nodded as the sounds of faint laughter drifted up to them once more, Jazz and Bladedrift apparently returning from wherever they had wandered off to in time to clean up for the evening meal. He stood slowly.

"Just remember, friend Prowl, that the best things in life are the ones we work for, but the ones we treasure most often are the ones that we cannot earn, but are given to us."

* * *

The old Seeker came in for a landing, setting down smoothly just outside the monastery proper and walking the rest of the way in, nodding respectfully to the monks. It was not the first visit Coda had made, and it certainly wouldn't be the last, if the Lord Heir was to carry as he hoped. It was something that Coda was going to have to address this time. If Prowl was set on bearing a Seeker-kin, and the Seeker had little doubt on the matter since once the Heir set his processor on something it usually came to pass, extreme measures were needed.

He walked to the quarters Prowl shared with his small family and was welcome in by Prowl. He could feel in the Praxian's field that he's gotten himself ready to interface. As always, this would be a quick overload, intended only to get Coda's transfluid for the forming protoform.

The Seeker's wings shifted in greeting, and in acknowledgement of Prowl's current state. "You have expressed a repeated desire for this creation you carry to be Seeker-kin." He said calmly, optics meeting the Heir's and getting right to business with a minimal amount of pleasantries.

"It is the only reason I am seeking influence outside my bond," Prowl nodded, his helm tilting slightly in curiosity.

"Seekers are creatures of flight. We belong in the air. It is our belief that the strongest influence is gained during flight." Code explained. "If you want this, you may want to consider joining me in the air."

Prowl's reaction was expected, the flare of sensor wings, long, elegant and designed to look like real wings, were still attached to a grounder frame and spark. The idea of being in the arms of an overloading flier was a distressing concept, even for a calm processor and spark such as Prowl's.

"Have you done that before, both overloading and supporting one who can't fly?" Prowl asked, his tactical computer working frantically at this idea.

"Yes, to both your questions. You would be in no danger, nor would the spark you carry." Code replied with confidence, watching with long familiarity as Prowl processed risks vs. reward and factored in his own desires and needs.

"Then this orn?" Prowl offered as well as asked as he extended his hand, giving Coda control of the situation.

"The sooner we start the better the chances for what you desire." The Seeker responded, taking Prowl's hand and leading him from the room, his entire demeanor one of quiet confidence. "Should you warn your mate?"

Prow hesitated, then nodded. If Jazz has been planning to be in the fabrication shop, it wouldn't matter, but he was planning to be out exploring. ~Love?~ he nudged at the bond that they always closed for these visits so Jazz wouldn't be bothered by what Prowl was doing.

~Prowl. Is some wrong?~ Care and concern flooded back over the small opening. Even if they were brief, Coda's visit had never been this short before, and Jazz's knee jerk reaction was concern for his mate.

~No, love,~ Prowl reassured him as strongly as he could. ~Coda is taking me flying. You may wish to keep your optics from the eastern sky.~

~Flying? Why?~ Jazz demanded immediately, before Prowl felt him regain his self control and trust in his mate. ~We will do so love...be careful. Please.~

~I will, we will,~ Prowl promised. ~All will be well,~ he said before gently blocking the bond once more. "Please keep us east of the monastery."

Experienced optics scanned the skies for a moment. "Easily done." Coda agreed as they left the monastery yard. He stopped in the middle of the open space, turning to face Prowl and reaching for the Praxian's hands. Steady white hands took his, Prowl's field trusting but uncertain, his processor unable to stop producing suggestions and simply go along with it.

"Just hold on." Coda instructed, stepping closer so that he was bracing Prowl's frame with his own as his thrusters fired, lifting them both from the ground with ease and slowly into the air.

The Seeker simply went up, allowing Prowl time to adjust to the lack of anything solid under his pedes, and to feel the Seeker's strength, reassurance that he was safe. It wasn't long before Prowl's death-grip relaxed slightly to a more comfortable hold.

As he felt the safety in Coda's embrace, Prowl's arousal came back. He shifted his grip slightly to draw himself up for a kiss, secure in arms that had protected him since he was a very young sparkling.

It was a kiss that was shared willingly, vibrations running through Prowl's frame as powerful thrusters fired, lifting them higher faster. ::A Seeker-kin creation will crave this, at least as much as your aerial has and maybe more, if it feels it before it separates.:: Code explained as the wind whipped over their plating, cold contrast to the growing heat of their systems.

::Yes,:: Prowl nearly moaned, a tiny whisper from the grounder's spark speaking of a long heritage of Aerials and Seekers mixed into heritage.

Hands loosened their actual grip on Prowl, testing the grounders reaction to the loss before starting to move over his frame in a way that was meant to arouse even more, finding all of the hot spots that were quickly become very familiar to Coda.

He nudged at Prowl's helm, catching the Praxian in another kiss as his field blended with the smaller mech's, testing the level of readiness. Arousal burned hot, ready and willing as Prowl worked to hook his legs around Coda's hips as his valve cover slid open.

The Seeker purred in approval, shifting his own frame slightly to make the motion easier without interrupting the flight pattern at all.

Once he was confident Prowl was set Coda reached down, grasping Prowl's hips to steady the grounder, spike finding the ready valve in one quick, smooth motion. He heard Prowl's gasp of pleasure against his throat as the slick valve welcomed him with a flutter of strong walls. The tension in the frame against his was only from the pleasure, the desire for more, to be taken deep and hard and to feel the heat and charge of transfluid erupting into that tight space.

With a deep rumble of approval Coda obliged, spike driving into that wonderful tightness as he continued to take them higher with each thrust as his field blended more with Prowl's. Safety and the joy of being in the sky, as well as the pleasure. Even if this was something of a business encounter the Seeker was not above enjoying it as much as possible.

Prowl's field spoke loudly of his acceptance and agreement, as did his frame. He did his part in holding on, but that was all the attention he paid to it. He trusted Coda with this, with the future of their House, with the House's Heir and the Heir's creation. His fingers tightened, digging into armor seams as the charge built quickly and he worked the thick, long spike driving in and out of his valve.

His very spark sang with agreement, with the joy of flight and affirmation of heritage.

The flight leveled out some as Coda reached what he considered an acceptable altitude, and the bulk of his focus shifted to bringing the mech in his grasp to full overload. Hands tightened on Prowl's hips, allow the Seeker to change the angle and aiming for a set of sensor nodes deep in the Praxian's valve.

"Yessss," Prowl moaned deeply. His entire frame shuddered with the building charge and the slide of spike he adored so much. He knew what Coda was doing and welcomed it, even though he didn't care about the fall anymore.

The Seeker grunted, the charge building in his systems as well and each thrust making it harder to concentrate on what he was doing and not simply give over to the pleasure of being with someone willing and wanting and in the sky.

With a keening roar that he buried against Coda's chest, Prowl's optics flared white and his frame stiffened as electricity crackled along his frame and jumped to Coda's.

That was the reaction the Seeker had been striving for, the grounder's pleasure signaling his own overload and moment of glorious release. Thrusters roared for a moment, reacting to the first initial surge of energy, then quit.

Neither mech cared as they fell back towards the surface, lost in the rush of giving and receiving as transfluid surged from spike to welcoming valve, giving both mechs what they wanted.

It was Coda who regained control first, practice and base level coding redirecting his attention to survival as thrusters fired once more. Directional at first, to orient their fall along with his wide wings, and then much more powerful engines coming back online to slow their descent.

Still locked against him by hands and their interlocked interface arrays, Prowl was fully aware and felt none of panic most grounders instinctively did during freefall or recovery.

::I like this,:: Prowl murmured, relaxed and sedate in Coda's embrace.

The Seeker chuckled in amusement, the sound vibrating softly as he continued a very leisurely and controlled descent. ::Perhaps one of your additional bondeds will be a Seeker. We enjoy it just as much the other way.::

::Perhaps,:: Prowl purred, his spark pulsing joyfully. ::It is traditional.::

* * *

* * *

* * *

"Storm!" Bladesinger cheered, excited and straining to get closer to the wild solar winds and scouring dust just on the far side of it.

"Easy brightspark. That needs to stay closed, at least until the worst of the storm passes." Jazz informed her, catching her as she tried for the window again and scooping her into his arms, bouncing her playfully.

She squealed happily, only to still and go quietly when Prowl muffled a moan of discomfort bordering on distress. Across the bond Jazz could feel Prowl's spark going wild, trying to pull him into something the mech was resisting with everything he was.

~Love?~ Jazz prodded gently across the bond, trying to feel the source of his mate's distress and deeply concerned as Bladesinger snuggled against him. ~Do I need to find the healer?~

~No,~ Prowl said firmly. ~Our creation is being a _glitch_ ,~ he nearly snarled at another surge of need tore across his spark.

~One moment.~ Jazz whispered before nuzzling at Bladesinger. "How about getting out some of your toys and playing up on your net?"

She looked worriedly at her sire before nodding. "I'll be good," she promised.

"Good spark. We'll go outside and see what changes the storm made when it is over, all right?"

As soon as she was settled Jazz climbed on to the berth by his mate, field wrapping Prowl in a warm blanket of love and safety. ~Is it the storm upsetting him?~

~Upsetting?~ Prowl glared at his mate, giving the first real indication that something was terribly wrong with the Praxian. ~He wants to go _flying_ in it!~

Jazz edged closer, adding a physical layer of comfort to the ones already existing across field and the much deeper level of the bond, feeling along the weaker link to the spark Prowl was carrying as well. There he tried for a gentle reprimand, danger and not good, and love.

The newspark cowered away, though only very briefly. Then it gave a distinct impression of sulking, which was enough to allow Prowl to relax, his entire frame sagging into the berth and his optics dimming gratefully.

"This one's Thunderstorm," Prowl muttered quietly. It was enough to get Bladesinger's attention, and she repeated the designation carefully, humming as she considered it.

The response from the newspark was a curious rumble, then mental chirr of approval.

Jazz divided his attention quickly, love and the distracting playfulness that had always worked so well with Bladesinger directed at the newspark as Jazz allowed most of his conscious attention to focus on Prowl. Gentle hands rubbed over Prowl's armor, dipping into seams and working the tightest of the cables and stressed joints.

"Thunderstorm?" He repeated, mimicking Bladesinger with a smile before leaning down and nuzzling his mate into a tender kiss. "Seems like this one approves as well. How long have you been able to feel him?"

"... A while," Prowl scowled as he realized the timestamps on his resent memories were hazy at best, not unlike when he was overcharged, only he hadn't been. "The first time Coda took me flying," he place the event. "He's not a talker, not like she was."

~Still just as opinionated it would seem though.~ Jazz pointed out with amusement as he continued to work on his mate, willing to do anything that might ease the strain on Prowl and keep Thunderstorm quiet for a bit. He glanced up to where Bladesinger was edging her way closer, clearly curious about her new sibling but also very aware of the fact that her sire was not in the best of states at the moment.

"Come on," Prowl extended a hand to her. ~If not more so. I _did_ want Seeker-kin. He feels like one.~

Bladesinger sprang up on the berth, taking the invitation for all it was worth to snuggle against her sire's side, small hands rubbing at his chest curious and in a child's innocent attempt to be helpful. Prowl smiled and stroked her back, fingers taking in all her developing details that spoke of her flight-oriented frame.

Jazz shifted to allow her more room, smiling encouragingly at her even as inside his thoughts took a more serious turn. ~He does?~

~Yes,~ Prowl shared a few memories, pleasure-merges with Seekers and Aerials alike. He focused on the differences, the difficult to articulate essence that was _Seeker_.

Jazz processed that, feeling and studying the differences. Slowly he eased down beside Prowl. ~How much of that is spark based coding?~ He asked quietly.

~I don't know,~ he admitted. ~To believe the Seekers, if the carrier isn't a Seeker, it won't be a Seeker. What I'm feeling says differently.~

Jazz nuzzled against him, fighting a battle within himself. ~Am I hindering things...merging with you two as often as I am?~

~If you have, so be it,~ Prowl said firmly. ~He is _our_ creation. Never doubt that, no matter what his frame looks like.~

Thanks and warmth flooded across the bond. ~If he is to be Seeker-kin, or even full Seeker, I want him to have the best life possible. No matter the cost.~

~Thank you,~ Prowl whispered into a soft kiss. ~You can do no harm to our creation.~

"Creators want quiet time?" Bladesinger suddenly piped up from Prowl's chest.

"Yes." Jazz answered, reaching up to stroke her helm gently as he addressed Prowl over their bond. ~Do you think Warbler would be willing to watch her for a little while? With this storm going?~

~I'm sure he would,~ he purred even as he opened a comm line and pinged the monk who probably spent the most time with her out of the entire monastery.

::Yes, friend Prowl?::

::We were wondering if you might entertain Bladesinger for a joor or so,:: Prowl asked politely.

::I would be delighted to,:: the monk's grin was audible. ::I will be there in a few kliks,:: he promised.

"Monk Warbler is going to play with you for a while," Prowl told her with an affection brush of his field.

"Yay!" Bladesinger cried as she sat up, the excitement in her field reflected in glowing optics at the prospect of spending time with her favorite of the monastery's permanent residents.

~At this rate she is going to be able to craft crystal as well as me by the time we are ready to return home.~ Jazz commented, warmed by his creation's enthusiasm as well aware of how Warbler often kept Bladesinger entertained.

~As long as you don't mind, that isn't a bad thing,~ Prowl chuckled. 

~Why would I mind?~ Jazz asked, the bond full of pride as he kissed Prowl quickly and rose to answer the knock at the door.

~Pride,~ Prowl said simply as he stroked Bladesinger's helm and tried to keep the ever more restless unhappiness of Thunderstorm from his field. ~Not all creators like it when their creation exceeds them.~

Jazz made a soft, dismissive sound as he reached the door. ~I hope they all do.~

~None will exceed you in my spark,~ Prowl said softly. Even if he didn't _know_ that, he hoped it would be true.

"Monk Warbler!" Bladesinger squealed happily when the door opened and hopped down from the berth to run to her favorite monk.

"Friend Bladesinger," the monk knelt to scoop her up with a smile. "Care for your mate, friend Jazz. I am happy to care for her until you comm."

"Thank you." Jazz answered, sincerely, opening a quick comm line. ::She is thoroughly fascinated with the storm, just as a warning.::

::Understood, friend Jazz. I will ensure she can watch but not join it,:: Warbler promised before stepping back to leave with Bladesinger, who was already chattering about her latest crystal.

"Be good for monk Warbler, brightspark." Jazz called after, knowing that she was too excited to hear but feeling obligated to make the effort as he closed the door. ~And now for you two.~ He said, crossing the room back to the berth and his waiting mate.

~Yes, perhaps a merge will distract him, and the pleasure will distract me,~ Prowl purred over the erratic pulse of his spark as he opened his arms to welcome his mate.

Jazz fell into his arms willingly, claiming his mate in a deep kiss as his hands started to work over Prowl's frame, finding points he knew would bring his mate pleasure and relief. ~Need to feel your spark. Want to feel his again.~

~Yes,~ Prowl moaned, arching into the contact and displaying the first trace of alterations to his frame that heralded the building of Thunderstorm's protoform. His chest plates unlocked, a mark of how eager he was for his mate's spark.

Jazz changed the target of his attention, nuzzling at Prowl's chest. ~Open for me love.~

With little more than a whimper of anticipation Prowl spread his chest plates, feeling relief as Thunderstorm stilled somewhat at being closer to the storm he craved. His hands found Jazz's helm and rubbed the sensor horns there, though he offered no guidance.

For a moment all Jazz did was stare, admiring the strength of his mate's spark and the secondary energy that was strong enough for him to see with his own optics, the life force of their second creation.

Slowly he reached down, fingers tracing lightly over the strong crystal casing and tingling at the tendrils of energy that reached out in response to follow his touch. "So beautiful." He whispered, a gentle kiss following the touch of his hand.

~As is yours,~ Prowl moaned, trembling at the exquisite, unique pleasure that was the light, loving touch to his spark chamber.

Attention that continued as Jazz's own chest plates unlocked and parted, sparklight matching sparklight in the dim room for a short time.

Finally Jazz was unable to resist the pull of his spark any longer and slid up Prowl's frame to kiss his mate as his spark chamber spiraled open, spark calling and eager to be feel whole and complete. From the bond he knew that Prowl's spark was no less eager, and it always warmed him to know that he wasn't the only one who felt the need for this.

~Sire?~ Thunderstorm's voice was low, uncertain, as the first tendrils of his creators' sparks found each other.

~Yes.~ Jazz responded instantly with love, approval and affection directed at the newspark even as wonder and joy flooded the connection with his mate. ~Hello Thunderstorm.~ He added.

Prowl smiled warmly, drawing Jazz in for a long, tender and mostly chaste kiss.

~Sky-kin?~ Thunderstorm prodded at the spark joining his carrier's with firm intent.

Jazz hesitated for a moment. ~Yes, little one.~ He finally answered, strengthening the connection as much as he could and letting the newspark judge for himself. He did not receive the kind of judgment he expected. His creation was confused, but responded to Jazz's unease by trying to nuzzle him the way Prowl did when Thunderstorm was distressed by his inability to fly.

Jazz's very spark trembled as a quiet sob of relief escaped him. His spark reached out, drawing the other close and offering strength, love and support.

He felt another burst of _confusion-concern_ from Thunderstorm.

~Why?~ the newspark asked.

~Was concerned about you strongspark. It is nothing for you to worry about.~ Jazz assured him quickly.

~Alright,~ Thunderstorm accepted the diversion from his sire's insecurities, quietly sinking into the background with his extra energy spent.

Once more Prowl was front and center in the bond, his spark embracing Jazz's eagerly, offering not only a home but pleasure they were both addicted to.

Jazz came to him willingly, spark singing with joy and brightness as it reached out to latch on to it's mate, forgetting the heavy walls of the room around them and the storm raging just beyond them to focus on the narrow existence that was their joining. It was all either of them desired in that moment, and the bliss was swift in taking them over.

* * *

Prowl stilled in his work on his decorative nesting spheres when the first warning popped up on his HUD, informing him that separation was going to begin in three joors. Without hesitation he access the long-range comm relay of the monastery and pinged Keepsafe.

::Yes, Lord Heir?:: she responded immediately.

::The first separation warning has appeared,:: he informed her. ::I have three joors before it begins.::

::I will be there within the groon. Please be in the separation chamber before I arrive,:: she told him in full medical mode.

::Understood,:: he accepted the order without question. ::All will be prepared for your arrival.:: ~Love. It has begun. Keepsafe will arrive within the groon, the separation should begin in three joors.~

~Plenty of time to get Bladesinger contained then, and you comfortable. Or at least as comfortable as one can be with a newspark separating.~ Jazz answered as he finished the detail he was doing on a shelf and places his tools neatly aside.

He rose, stretching stiff cables as he crossed to Prowl's side and leaned down to place a chaste kiss on the side of his mate's helm. ~Though I think that Thunderstorm might be a little more patient than she was in this.~

~I agree,~ Prowl murmured, turning into the kiss but keeping it chaste. ~You get Bladesinger settled with Steelplate. I will settle into separation chamber.~

~And I will be along as soon as possible.~ Jazz promised, offering his mate a hand up from his seat and reaching out to touch the distended abdominal plates gently.

Prowl claimed another kiss before they forced themselves to pull away. "Monk Warbler, the separation has begun. Please extend my apologies for any meals and work that I miss."

"Of course, friend Prowl," the monk's optics brightened, excited for his friends and for the new life that would be joining them.

"I'll see Thunderstorm soon?" Bladesinger's grin could light a city.

"Yes, brightspark." Jazz answered, forcing himself away from his mate and scooping her up. "You will get to meet your brother very soon. But first you are going to have to stay with Steelplate and be good for him. We'll call you. All right?"

"Yes, carrier," she nodded eagerly, glancing at her sire as he left the fabrication shop. "I'll be good."

"I know you will." Jazz answered, nuzzling at her affectionately and carrying her from the fabrication shop as he opened a comm to her caretaker. ::Steelplate?::

::Jazz?:: Steelplate's response was easy, relaxed and informal over the relative privacy of a comm connection. ::It's time, isn't it? I'll come get her.::

"I'll call as soon as everyone is checked over and ready for company." Jazz promised as he deposited one very excited sparkling in the arms of her guardian, eager to be on his way but refusing to neglect his firstborn in any way.

"Yes, carrier," she reached out to pat at him. "Sire needs you now. I'll be good," she promised again.

Jazz kissed her gently on the helm and accepted the firm squeeze on his shoulder from his mentor and former guardian as he reached out to Prowl. ~On my way, love. Is there anything I can get you on the way?~

~Just yourself,~ Prowl brushed along the bond fondly. ~Thunderstorm is calm. My systems are running well and I have a datafile to read.~

"Bladesinger is settled, and promising to be good." Jazz informed his mate as he entered the room and took in Prowl's relaxed frame on the extra soft berth. "And she is very eager to meet her brother."

"She has been as soon as she found out she'd have one," Prowl smiled and extended a hand to Jazz, welcoming his mate close. ~Come snuggle until she needs you to move.~

Jazz didn't need much encouragement, sliding on to the berth and arranging his frame next to his mate's in such a way as to allow him easy access to places he knew his mate liked to be touched.

One hand stroked along a sensor wing, the other gliding soothingly over shifting and strained plating. ~How are you feeling?~ He asked, lips meeting Prowls in another kiss as fields blended together.

~Fine, though that is likely to change in the next few joors,~ Prowl hummed into the kiss, the touch making hid field warm with enjoyment and contentment. ~Thunderstorm is calm. He's quite patient for Seeker-kin,~ he purred into another kiss. ~I think he got that from you.~

~Me, calm?~ Jazz teased gently as he reached out to their newest creation, checking for himself even though he trusted his mate completely. Thunderstorm responded to his attention by returning it, though the sparkling was predominantly focused on his task of the orn; getting out of his carrier.

~You are calmer than I am, on a fundamental level,~ Prowl purred and snuggled close.

"I take it you are feeling well, Lord Heir," Keepsafe smiled at the affectionate pair, and the way Prowl tightened his arm slightly to ensure Jazz didn't go anywhere.

"Yes. The processes has not yet begin in earnest," Prowl told her easily. "Thunderstorm is calm and relaxed, though he indicates he is ready."

Jazz smiled at her, quite content to remain by Prowl until otherwise ordered. "Hopefully easier than Bladesinger."

"She was rather aggressive, though not the most difficult separation I have overseen," she smiled and stepped up to Prowl's side to plug into his medical port. "Everything is progressing smoothly on a physical level," she told them. "As Prowl's systems told him, it will be nearly three joors before it beings in earnest."

Reassured that all was going well and with trusted help close at hand Jazz settled down by his mate, intent on making the time they had together as pleasant as possible.

* * *

Jazz cooed softly as he ran the soft clothe over Thunderstorm's protoform, cleaning off the last traces of separation from the drowsing sparkling curled in Prowl's arms. Satisfied with his work, a possessive, protective gaze swept the length of his mate's frame as well, confirming that all was indeed well as Keepsafe had said.

Content, he leaned down to kiss Prowl, distracting his mate from their new creation for a moment. ~He's beautiful, love. And if you and he are well enough for a short visit, I believe Bladesinger is going to explode from excitement if she is not allowed in soon.~

~As long as she doesn't want to play,~ Prowl murmured, forcing his processors and frame to remain aware despite the pings for recharge on his HUD.

~She'll be good.~ Jazz told him. ~And then you can both recharge until you feel up to moving again.~ He promised. ::Steel- she can come in now. So long as she promise to be quiet. Thunderstorm is already recharging and Prowl is nearly there.::

::Understood. I will make sure she understands,:: Steelplate responded. ::Congratulations on a second healthy flier. There has been great excitement and approval among the House when news reached them.::

::Enough to overshadow any questions of how and why and when, I hope.:: Jazz responded with good humor, still too proud and relieved to be really concerned with much else at the moment.

He smiled as the door opened, gaze fixing on a quivering Bladesinger. "Quiet, brightspark." He reminded gently, trusting in Bladesinger's desire to be good and knowing that it was not always as strong as her ability at this age.

::I have heard no hint of doubt as to who carried, and it is quietly understood that Coda contributed. Remember, you have one strong flier already, and no doubt as to who carried and who sired. Now you have Seeker-kin, with the _Lord's Bonded_ who contributed to it staying very clearly that you carried and are doing so well. This is a common place for Prowl to come here for vorns at a time as well. There is no reason for any to doubt Thunderstorm's heritage or who carried him.::

Bladesinger cooed, drawing her sire's attention and smile. He reached one arm out to invite her onto the berth and to his side.

::Then there should be no issue.: Jazz answered, content as he took Bladesinger from her guardian and placed her carefully on the berth by Prowl.

Released from Jazz's hold she scrambled forward, careful not to bump Prowl or the newborn he held, and craned her neck around to look, chirring softly in delight at her first sight of Thunderstorm. Her field reached out, gentle and questioning, brushing Prowl's as she looked at him for permission to try and touch her brother.

"Be as gentle as you are working with organic fabrics," Prowl said gently, his field warm and welcoming, though exhausted.

She snuggled up under his arm, tight against his side as she reached out, fingers brushing very lightly over the flexible protoform. Her field followed, curious, but also warm and welcoming, and already full of hints of protectiveness. With his carrier content with her presence, he welcomed her with a sleepy chirr.

Jazz had slid up to stand near Prowl's helm, watching the sequence of events with pride and affection.

~Come snuggle on her other side,~ Prowl requested, wanting his mate's protection and presence.

Jazz eyed the berth for a moment before determining that there was indeed enough room for him to do as his mate requested. He shifted Prowl's arm and nudged Bladesinger's frame around enough to join them, arm wrapping possessively around his family and the arrangement conveniently placing himself between them and the main entrance to the room.

::I'll be outside if you need anything, and when it is time to move back to your room.:: Steelplate commed him quietly, dismissing himself to give the small family time to bond without outside interference.

Keepsafe followed him out, giving the couple and their creations a warm smile, pleased that the strong spark that Prowl had nourished was indeed going to have a good existence in the House.


	16. The House of Crossbeam

Jazz's excitement was clear as they drew near to the House of his sire. It might not have been a place that held the best of memories for him, but it was still where he had grown up, and where his own sire still resided. Being able to see Crossbeam again, to present him with two creations that were strong and sharp in frame and processor, was enough to make Jazz want to return.

Too, it was something different for his creations to see, a place very unlike the House of Shining Sun or any of its holdings.

On a much deeper and more personal level, it was closure for Jazz. Proof, to his creator's second bonded and the rest of the House, that he was not a failure. He had taken everything that she had thrown at him, risen above it, and excelled.

"Almost there." He commented softly to Prowl. "Sire said they would be expecting us."

"What does the House earn income from?" Prowl asked, quite curious and looking to distract the restless Seeker-kin sparkling inside his cab. He had known, on a level, that this was a very small holding, but it had never occurred to him that it wouldn't control land that earned obvious income from farming or a settlement.

"Mining rights that were deeded to my creator with the land grant mostly." Jazz answered. "The House actually holds the property rights to what we are traveling through now. Sire also used most of the credits that were part of his reward from the Prime to set the House up so that for now, and in fact until it grows considerably, it is mostly self sufficient for resources like power energy and energon. There is also an agreement with the several of the local settlements for supplies that we cannot produce ourselves. The House will provide protection and shelter in time of need, and aid in dealing with other threats."

"A good plan, then," Prowl said agreeably, though it was one he agreed with in practice. "May your brother do as well to advance it."

"Cadence has that sort of processor set, much more than I do. Sire has no worries about the future of the House when he returns to the Well one orn." Jazz had to laugh softly. "I would have made a terrible Heir."

~Why do you say that?~ Prowl switched to their bond, his concern woven into the words.

~Because I would not make a good lord.~ Jazz replied easily, curiosity answering Prowl's concern. ~I do not have the political mindset that it takes to be a _good_ lord. I also lack the ambition. I never truly wanted anything more than to be a warrior in my creator's House, before.~

~There is a great deal between _terrible_ and _not good_. I disagree you would not be good,~ Prowl pointed out evenly. ~You are practical, pragmatic, determined, creative and pick up skills quickly and efficiently. You may not be happy as a lord. You may not desire it. That does not change that I believe you would do what was needed to make your holdings prosper.~

His mate was actually silent for a time as he considered what Prowl had said, and had to admit to himself that most of what Prowl was saying was accurate and true. If for no other reason than the fact that Prowl did not lie. And if there was one thing that Jazz held very dear to his spark, it was the desire to for those in his care to do well.

~Thank you. Even though I am still glad that burden falls to my brother instead.~ Jazz responded sincerely, then added with a note of humor and deep affection. ~If for no other reason than the fact that I would never have been bonded to you.~

A flare of _gratitude-thanks-approval_ burst across the bond from Prowl. ~We have come a long way from the first orn I saw your image capture.~

~And the minor explosion that occurred when I saw yours and was informed of my 'fate'.~ Jazz admitted, love and devotion sliding across the bond. ~Any reservations, besides my rank, when you saw me?~

~Reservations, no,~ Prowl told him. ~Appearance has never been that important to me compared to strength of spark, frame and processor. You were more attractive in person than your capture lead me to expect.~

~Oh?~ Jazz inquired, curious. ~Everyone else who was interested decided I was not what they expected when they actually met me.~

~Perhaps because they had a choice?~ Prowl suggested. ~I was prepared for a first bonded that only tolerated me. So long as they did what was required of them and produced a strong heir, it was all I was interested in. That I saw the potential for more in you led me to hope, and to _try_.~

 _Thanks-relief_ flowed back across the bond. ~And what did you see in me, besides someone who did not wish to be where he was?~

~A mech who would either be a great asset, or one of my great processor-aches,~ Prowl chuckled. ~You have far too much spirit and intelligence, and a manipulative nature. You were going to be trouble if left unhappy.~

His response had Jazz laughing. ~I know of more than one mecha who would agree with you.~ Jazz mused for a moment before posing another question. ~So my profile specs filled your ideal. How far off was the frame in the photo caption from what you desired in a mate?~

~Not too far off,~ he said even as he shared a few memory-images of mecha who had sparked instant intense desire in him. Critical though was that it was only physical desire; it was the desire to take pleasure with that frame, but nothing else. ~We are of similar size. The primary thing I miss is wings. I am Praxian, of an old House. I was raised to find the Praxian ideal the most desirable.~

~I can see that. Yours are beautiful.~ Jazz offered back his first real visual of Prowl in person, and the striking appeal the sensor wings added to the Praxian's frame.

~Thank you,~ Prowl purred, preening slightly. ~Your visor struck me the most.~

~Most consider it a turn-off.~ Jazz responded, slightly surprised.

~Why? It looks good on you. Distinctive,~ Prowl said.

~Because it hides my optics. I wasn't cooperative anyway, and that just gave them one less thing to read.~ With the answer came the positive feelings at the fact that Prowl liked his visor.

~I can understand that,~ Prowl decided after a moment. ~I simply do not agree it is detracting on you.~

Warmth flooded across the bond as the line of conversation came to an end with the appearance of the main gate to Jazz's birth House.

They passed through the outer wall unchallenged, the gate open to their arrival. While the walls lacked the impressiveness of those of the House of Shining Sun, they were sturdy and maintained in good repair, far more important traits than optic appeal for a warrior.

The second gate led into the main yard of the House proper, guards there watching them with careful optics but still clearly forewarned of the arrival of company that orn and some clue as to who.

Despite Prowl's insistence on traveling light as to not burden the much smaller House, his status and the two sparklings traveling with him meant there was no escaping a sizeable and well-armed guard for the journey, even if the guards would not stay long. In addition to himself, Jazz and their sparklings, there were their three servants; Steelplate, Softlight and Surestrike, and sixteen experienced and loyal warriors that had served as part of Prowl's personal guard during campaigns. In all, the House of Crossbeam was hosting twenty-three mecha for a couple orns and seven for much longer.

Though if the Lord of the House and his family considered it any sort of burden one would not have been able to tell from the expressions on faces and the light in optics as mecha spilled from the house to greet them, Crossbeam in the lead.

The entire procession stopped and transformed in order. First the front guard, who made no effort or even look to stop those coming, then Jazz and Prowl, who had to let their sparklings out of their cabs before transforming, then the servants, and finally the rear guard. It was a reminder to all who saw it that these were not honor guards and this wasn't a ceremony; this was a warrior unit and the two lords they were protecting were part of the unit, not above it.

"Carrier's Sire!" Bladesinger cheered and darted forward to jump into his welcoming hug.

Thunderstorm hung back by Prowl, looking far more dignified and a bit more uncertain.

Crossbeam laughed as he caught her light frame easily, dignity thrown aside in the presence of family. "Bladesinger. Look at how you've grown!"

He shifted her to the side, carrying her even though she was getting far too large to be toted around like a newspark, and approached Prowl and Jazz, deep blue visor dancing in delight and amusement as Jazz was assaulted by several House sparklings old enough to remember him in turn. "Lord Prowl, Jazz. Welcome. I trust your journey was uneventful?"

"It was calm and pleasant, Lord Crossbeam," Prowl smiled slightly and nudged his younger creation forward a bit. The Seeker-kin sparkling was dominated by medium blue seemed to gather himself and stood straight, his wing struts flaring in a flier greeting that said he was one of rank. "This is Thunderstorm."

Crossbeam settled Bladesinger back on her pedes, focusing on the serious little flier before him and greeting him formally. "Hello Thunderstorm. I am pleased to me meet my creation's second creation."

"I am pleased to meet you as well. Carrier has told many stories of your deeds," Thunderstorm said seriously.

"He's not much on smiling," Bladesinger added with a grumpy look at her brother. "All serious and whatnot."

"Some are like that, little one." Crossbeam informed her, tweaking her metallic red chevron gently before looking at Thunderstorm again, this time with a warm smile. "I can imagine he has. Welcome to my House."

Crossbeam glanced over to where Jazz was just starting to get himself untangled, optics taking in the servants and the guards, before circling back around to Prowl. "Pleasant trip or not, it is still a long one. Your mecha will be taken care of, if you would like to see your rooms."

"That would be most welcome," Prowl said politely, formally, though there was a touch of warmth there as well for the sire of the mech he loved.

"Come along, then." He waved them in the direction of the house's main entrance, the other mecha parting before them easily. Servants circled around to take charge of the guard from the House of Shining Sun.

No one bothered to approach Steelplate, the mech catching Softlight and Surestrikes' attention and nodded for them to follow in the wake of Prowl and his creations. 

"Jazz will catch up as soon as he can escape, but I am sure that you would like to remove the evidence of your travels before the evening meal." Crossbeam commented as he let them personally through his house. It lacked the feel of power and age that permeated the House of Shining Sun. Many of the walls and ways were bare, without the accumulation of millennia of history to fill them.

That would come with age, the stories of the building of the House. And if it was young now the construction was strong, the house well appointed, and clearly constructed with the intention that it would stand to protect generations to come.

Prowl hummed his approval of Crossbeam's priorities, taking in everything as they walked. Jazz had warned him that there were only a few guest rooms, but as long as he and Jazz didn't have to share with anyone else, he was quite content with it. His guard all knew to expect barracks bunks and the sparklings knew they'd be sharing a room, something both, quite separately, seemed agreeable enough to. They were not yet to the stage where privacy became important to them. Steelplate would have his old quarters back, while Softlight and Surestrike had the servant's room attached to Prowl and Jazz's suite.

Crossbeam keyed open the door, entering first as show of good will and stepping aside to allow them to investigate where they would be spending the next few decaorns.

The central room was large and tastefully furnished, and Crossbeam caught Prowl's optics and pointed to the door on the left. "That is the master suite. I think Bladesinger and Thunderstorm will find the second room to their liking." He indicated another one.

"I am sure," Prowl nodded politely, silently encouraging the sparklings to investigate. "They have been very eager to visit and see all that their carrier has spoken of for themselves."

With the tiny permission from their sire, both sparklings darted to the room that would be their sanctuary. A moment after Bladesinger got inside they heard her squeal in delight.

Crossbeam tilted his head, a small pleased smile on his face as he looked at Prowl. "Jazz suggested a minor...renovation...to the guest room that he suspected would please your creations. It sounds as though he was correct."

"Netting," Prowl smiled, his field warm with approval and pleasure at it as he walked to the door to check out the room that had his sparklings so pleased. "Thank you. I was wondering why Jazz insisted we did not need to bring them," he teased his mate with a wash of warmth as Jazz entered the room.

"I do have some planning skills, and occasionally I do think ahead." Jazz teased back, finally having lost the pack of younglings that had ambushed him upon arrival, warmth answering Prowl's over the bond. ~It pleased Sire to be able to do something just for them.~ He added privately to Prowl as both noted the delighted gleam in Crossbeam's visor. ~If he has any regrets, I think it is the fact that he cannot give them the same attention he gives the rest of his grand creations.~

~The disadvantage of living so far away. I know my sire has many of the same regrets because of his health,~ Prowl smiled with an unabashed fondness at watching his creations explore the climbing rig spread across their room. "Thunderstorm will recharge much better so close to the ceiling," he added for Crossbeam's benefit, shifting a wing so the older mech could watch the reason for their visit.

Crossbeam watched for a moment longer, pleasure in his field at the sight of his grand-creations enjoying something so simple. Finally he straightened. "I am glad to hear it. And I will leave you now so that you can rest."

He turned, looking at his own creation. "I trust you haven't forgotten the way to the dining hall?" He asked, voice full of gentle affection.

"Never." Jazz answered, field brushing against his creator's in response. "Or what time dinner is served. We will be there."

Crossbeam nodded again, this time to Prowl, and let himself out of the room.

Prowl turned and drew Jazz against him so they could both watch their creations a bit longer. ~As much as I enjoy watching them, we do need to clean up.~ He paused to nuzzled Jazz's cheek. ~Do you want to clean them up, or have a little more time and let Softlight and Surestrike take care of them?~

Affectionate optics took in the state of their creations as Jazz leaned against his bonded, field blending easily with Prowl's. ~We'll have plenty of chances to look after them while we are here, I think. Surestrike and Softlight can see to them this time.~

Prowl nodded and tipped Jazz's helm to kiss him before addressing the pair. "Surestrike and Softlight will be by to help you clean up for dinner. Be good for them."

"Yes, creator," Thunderstorm agreed immediately, always the more compliant of the pair.

Bladesinger looked to be on the verge of protesting from where she was perched high above the floor, but after she considered for a moment she agreed as well, eager to see her grandcreator again. "All right." 

~Need help with your wings?~ Jazz asked, somehow keeping the question at least sounding innocent.

~Of course,~ Prowl chuckled as he drew back and turned to walk to their master berthroom with its attached washrack. His wings gave a playful flick, asking to be touched, stroked, lavished with attention.

The berthroom matched the rest of the house, the decor classic and of good quality that would hold up over use and time, and still nice enough to impress company that would use it. The washrack was the same, as functional and appealing as the rest, and it was here that Jazz finally caught up with his mate and gave in to temptation.

~You know I can't resist your wings.~ He growled, mock irritation mixing with equal playfulness in his field.

~I know,~ Prowl purred in reply, his wings flicking and fluttering temptingly as he reached in to turn on the solvent. While the washrack was far smaller and less lavish than his own, it was also far nicer than what he had on campaign and very respectable for the importance of the House he was in. He knew that only the Prime and a handful of Royals, Senators and High Priests had a washrack comparable to his. It was his great indulgence and had seen many decades worth of his personal funds and more than a few gifts to build. He had yet to regret the investment.

His wings were quickly captured as the solvent sprayed over them both, strong hands catching the sensor panels before they began to play along the familiar lengths, Jazz stepping closer to press against his bonded's back. At this range they both felt the pleasure of each touch though meshed fields and Prowl's moans.

The Praxian trembled in desire, his entire being reminded that he hadn't had more than a glancing touch from his lover since they had risen very early that orn for the journey here. It was a mixture of being close and yet separate that neither were accustomed to.

~Love you.~ Jazz whispered, hands never ceasing as he pressed close to Prowl, making up for being so close but so far for so long.

~Love you,~ Prowl responded, his frame beginning to tremble under Jazz's knowing touch and his own desires.

The feel of a warm, loving field wove through Prowl's, caressing and testing, before Jazz smiled and nuzzled gently at the back of his mate's neck. "Open for me, love." He requested quietly, his intent perfectly clear as he rubbed his already pressurized spike against Prowl's aft.

A tremble ran all the way down Prowl's frame as he moaned, a rush of appreciation for his mate's attunement to his mood licked at Jazz as Prowl slid his valve cover open and shifted his hips to offer it fully to the lover behind him.

Jazz never faltered in his attention to the sensor wings under his hands or the soft kiss and nips to the back his mate's neck and shoulders as his spike slowly into the slick, familiar valve. It rippled and squeezed around him, welcoming and urging him deeper.

~Oh love,~ Prowl moaned across the bond, not knowing what else to say about being indulged in such a way because his mate _loved_ him, not out of a sense of duty or fear, or even in hope to gain favor.

Jazz purred softly, pleased by his mate's reaction and loving every second of _Prowl's_ pleasure, though he was not above admitting that he got off in a way by being able to please Prowl like this.

What Jazz once would have considered a foreign feeling was as natural to him as his own sparkpulse, caring for Prowl and craving the love and approval of the spark that meant the most to him. When his spike was fully seated he paused for a moment to simply enjoy the ripple and feel of Prowl's valve before moving into a slow rhythm, the slide of his spike in his mate's valve almost a secondary pleasure at the moment to the care he chose to lavish on the captivating sensor wings spread before him.

It was hard to believe that only thirty vorns ago he hadn't even known Prowl existed, much less how completely the Praxian would complete him. If he'd had any idea being bonded could be this he wouldn't have fought it so hard. 

Prowl moaned and shivered, bracing himself against the shower's wall as he surrendered completely to his mate's ministrations.

~Love you, so very much.~ Jazz whispered across the bond, sinking into the pleasure shared between them and the peace in his spark when they were like this.

His hands slid along the sensor wings, smooth pressure over the flat, sensitive panels and fingers slipping into the narrow seams to find the cables and deeper receivers all the time maintaining the steady rhythm of spike and valve.

Prowl was past true language already, only a sense of _pleasure-contentment-joy_ responded as his wings quivered under Jazz's hands. Sensations that were received and returned, Jazz's visor dimming as he allowed himself to feel, working from memory of what pleased his mate, and picking up on every little spike in Prowl's field and across the bond that something felt extra good this time.

Finally he shifted his attention, kissing along a wing until he reached the place where they joined his bonded's frame. Glossa and fingers converged there, gently stimulating every sensor that he knew of in turn and pushing the charge he could feel building in his love closer to release.

A low, pleasure-filled moan rose to a keen as Prowl's frame trembled, the close attention pushing him to a gentle overload in his mate's arms.

Jazz held him through it, purring at the pleasure washing back over the bond, spike continuing to thrust into the tight valve until prolonged stimulation overcame his control. His frame stiffened against Prowl's back, transfluid surging from his spike to fill his lover's valve.

Slowly, sweetly, they relaxed, allowing the post-overload bliss to drift to a natural end and left them feeling content and warm in each other's presence.

It was Jazz who finally moved first, slowly with drawing his spike as he nuzzled affectionately at his mate. Even then he didn't go far, the cleanser and soft scrub easily within reach.

Those in hand he started to clean Prowl's wings, gentle but firm strokes over the Praxian's plating lifting the dirt and grime of a long orn of travel to be washed away by the warm solvent still pouring over them.

* * *

Just as he had assured his sire, Jazz had forgotten neither the way to the large dining room that served to seat the House when they gathered, or the time that the evening meal was served each orn.

The room he led them into was a reflection of the rest of the house that Prowl and their creations had seen. Simple clean lines that spoke of strength and determination while at the same time maintaining a level of classical elegance that kept them from being overpowering.

~Carrier had a very strong influence on the design of the house.~ Jazz explained as they entered the room. ~Without her I am not sure that Sire wouldn't have built the entire structure out of bare blastcrete and tinted plexisteel plates.~

Prowl kept his chuckle to himself, the amusement laced with the sensation of understanding.

They paused just inside the doorway, gaze scanning the layout of the room quickly. ~They have us all sitting together, there in the middle of the table across from Sire and Quicksilver. After tonight seating will be much more fluid, but I think he wishes to welcome you properly.~

~Polite of him,~ Prowl smiled faintly and allowed Jazz to lead them in and get their sparklings settled while Prowl sat on the far side of the youngsters. It was an arrangement they had whenever they were in public, a subtle show of protection for their creations, but also a subtle show of Prowl's regard for his mate's ability to protect them.

It was an order that was understood by those old enough seated around the table, warriors themselves or the creations of warriors, and it garnered mixed expressions of approval and curiosity, mostly directed at Jazz.

Crossbeam offered them all a small smile of welcome as they were seated, offering the formal words of thanks to Primus once Jazz was settled. He then served his mate and himself before offering one of the platters to Jazz, who promptly placed some on Bladesong's plate and passed it along. ~If you can find something that Thunderstorm will like and get something on your own plate than everyone else can start too. Things will relax pretty soon.~ He said, nudging Prowl gently over the bond.

It wasn't exactly how it worked in his own House, but as a ranking political creation and Heir, Prowl had seen a hundred variants of this and smoothly adapted. A couple of the sweeter confections and a jelly were placed before a quiet, polite Thunderstorm, then Prowl selected some for himself and passed the tray on to the mech next to him.

Despite the way both of their sparklings were quiet and still, everyone who had been around a young sparkling could tell they were all but vibrating with eagerness to eat.

~You would think we starved them.~ Jazz teased over the bond as he added a few more things to Bladesinger's plate as platters began to move around the table smoothly and quickly.

"You can start any time, brightspark." Jazz informed her gently. "Just let me know if anything else looks good and _I_ will get it for you, all right?"

She nodded quickly as she worked to finish a bite of confection that was almost too large to have been considered good manners. "Yes, carrier."

Thunderstorm took the hint and picked up one of his confections for an almost dainty bite, completely at odds with his older sibling.

Prowl hummed approval for the Seeker-kin he'd carried before picking up his glass of energon and sipping it. He was hungry, but he'd been far lower many times in his existence. His reserve tank hadn't been touched yet.

Jazz just shook his helm a little as he added things to his own plate, managing to limit himself to just two of his favorite confections that he had not enjoyed since leaving his sire's House. The difference in personalities between their two creations was something that he doubted would ever cease to amaze him.

~If you can get the recipe, you can have those whenever you want,~ Prowl told him gently.

True to Jazz's prediction, once everyone had been served things did relax a great deal, the atmosphere settling in such a way as to hint that this was the more the normal way of the evening meal and not anything special that was being put on for company.

"How do two grounders have Aerial creations?" Sailsong, the sparkling that had tried to attach herself to Jazz's leg on his bonding orn piped up, speaking more to the two sparklings to her right than to the adults than could answer her.

"Because both I an their sire have strong sky-kin influence in our backgrounds." Jazz replied, keeping the answer simple enough for her. "Your grand creator was an Ariel, and there are many Aerials, Seekers, and Seeker-kin in the Prowl's heritage."

"The House of the Shining Sun was founded by a Seeker and traces its lineage to the Royal House of Vos through a sire," Prowl added with obvious pride. "Praxus was built by Seeker-kin."

That earned a hum of approval once more from those who where of an age to understand and care about such things, and multiple sets of curious optics studied Thunderstorm with renewed interest and a better understanding.

"Is it treaty then, or merely tradition, that the lord of the House of Shining Sun have at least one Seeker as a bondmate?" Shimmer asked with distinct curiosity. Unlike many of her siblings and their creations, she had the political and social bent of her carrier.

"Both," Prowl said easily. "While it is often an alliance bond, it is also a strong tradition. The true treaty is between the Royal House of Praxus and the Royal House of Vos. The First Bonded of the Royal House of Praxus is always a ranking royal Seeker of Vos; a sibling to the Winglord."

~Glad we had a little more leeway than that love.~ Jazz commented absently over the bond as he added several more mineral constructs to Bladesinger's plate. While she enjoyed her sweets, the growing Aerial was easy to keep fueled, often just as happy to consume things that were good for her as she was treats.

~Agreed, though if my First Bonded was such a case we would have been raised together, knowing from our sparking who we were destined to bond with,~ Prowl said. As much as he loved Jazz and was delighted with how his bonding had turned out, the comfort of knowing that he would never be required to _look_ would have been welcome as well.

"The added bond between the two cities can't hurt though." Cadence mused, reflecting on the various strengths of those ties and the potential political ripples.

"It rarely does," Prowl agreed smoothly. "Those ties among all the royal Houses are a key reason that wars rarely involve the cities themselves. It has been a long time since a royal House rebelled against another."

"A fact for which we can all be thankful for." Someone commented, earning sounds of agreement from those gathered.

"It also makes your choice of first bonded interesting, Lord Heir. Were there no Seekers that appealed when you were looking?" Quicksilver asked, her tone meant to come across as innocent curiosity.

Jazz knew better. It was a barb at him and an attempt to put a wedge between him and Prowl. He could feel across the bond that Prowl wasn't fooled either.

"My search was rushed," Prowl answered smoothly, giving every impression that all of this was common knowledge and nothing he found shameful or even that odd. "Jazz was the best choice of those available in the timeframe required. The Seeker that was available outranked myself, and thus would have required significant negotiations to join the House of the Shining Sun."

Outwardly Jazz didn't even so much as twitch at Quicklsilver's testing barbs, but across the bond there was a wave of grateful appreciation and a quiet comment. ~And still the best choice now, I hope.~

~Yes,~ Prowl purred across their bond. ~You have spoiled me for the political bondmates to come.~

"What Seeker outranked you?" Shimmer asked, her curiosity honest, though it could have been offensive if Prowl had chosen to be testy.

"The Lord Heir to the Winglord of Vos' heir apparent, Lord Starscream," Prowl said easily. What didn't come across to anyone but Jazz was that the excuse of the rank difference, while accurate, wasn't even close to the real reason the powerful Seeker was rejected.

A warm wave of love and pride washed over Prowl as the conversation continued around them, several members of Jazz's family clearly surprised at who else had been offered as a potential to Prowl.

"That would have been some complicated negotiating, even if he is still only the Heir Potential." Cadence agreed.

"Yes, it would have been," Prowl agreed, calm and even. "I suspect the only reason it was even suggested was because we know each other well. It would have made the negotiations easier. It was still too complicated for the timeframe."

"How long are you staying?" asked Skysweep, Cadence's Aerial mate speaking for the first time.

"Three decaorn," Prowl inclined his helm and wings in respect to the Lord of the House for indulging them for so long. "Though our guard will return to Praxus after an orns' rest."

Crossbeam smiled an inclined his helm in return. He tried not to beam at the complement to his reputation and that of his House that such a powerful visitor did not feel the need to keep their guards while in such a small House so far from home.

"Then my brother will have plenty of time to drag you around the surrounding countryside, if you are agreeable to that sort of thing." Cadence said with a wink in Jazz's direction.

Soft snickers of amusement, just muffled, sounded around the table as Jazz mock glared in return, though anyone who knew the pair or could teek Jazz's field knew the young mech had nothing but love for his oldest brother.

"It is something I am looking forward to," Prowl replied with a chuckle of his own. "My vorns in the field have done little to dim my appreciation of more civilized ventures in the wildlands."

"Civilized? Jazz? Then you have made progress." Cadence commented amidst chuckles, continuing to tease his little brother a bit.

"Hunting has always been considered civilized for nobility," Prowl responded with a teasing flick of his wings. "Jazz is very good at it."

"He is." Crossbeam agreed, optics settling on his youngest creation in pride. "Your help has been missed on the razor boar hunts."

Jazz nodded, slightly embarrassed at the praise but clearly pleased by it all the same.

"Some of our most spectacular retreats together have been after razor boar," Prowl agreed with a flash of arousal across the bond. "Hunting with stasis darts is significantly more difficult. The Praxus Mechanimal Conservatory has been thrilled with the additions to the collection that Jazz has provided."

"We've provided." Jazz countered, clamping down on the shiver that threatened to run through his frame and channeling it back to Prowl instead. "Have they been that bad?"

"Not any worse than usual. The sows go hunting for easier sources of energon when they have a brood, and thankfully there hasn't been a rogue boar since that one you helped take down just before you left to bond." Crossbeam answered easily, selecting a plate and passing it to Jazz with a glance at Bladesinger and Thunderstorm.

Jazz just smiled as he realized what the tray contained, and he quickly placed a glowing energon goodie on each sparklings plate. Bladesinger squealed in delight before putting the entire goodie in her mouth while Thunderstorm rumbled a trill of thanks and anticipation before nibbling on his to savor it.

"Is it sow season?" Prowl perked up with definite interest even as he cast an indulgent look at his very different creations.

"The lull in the middle of it, in fact. I'm sure you would be welcomed among the hunters, if another one starts causing trouble." Crossbeam answered. "So far we've only had to actually take down two this season. The others have been very young ones that we've released out past the monastery."

"Any returns? I know that was being discussed just before I left." Jazz inquired, plainly curious.

"Not so far, and we are hoping it stays that way." Cadence answered.

"Is there any other good hunting in the area?" Prowl asked, curious just for being curious as much as he was interested in a hunt.

"Thunderhorn, if you are into a challenge." One of Jazz's half brothers offered, naming a mechanimal that was not so much dangerous as elusive, both by nature and the fact that it tended to inhabit high mountain terrain.

"I've never hunted those," Prowl admitted with real interest. "Praxus doesn't have the mountains to support them. They are common enough to support a hunt before I leave?" he directed at Crossbeam.

::He does mean it Sire,:: Jazz gave him a quick comm. ::He won't mind if they're having a bad century.::

"They seem to be more scarce then usual lately, but there is no reason it can't be arranged. Perhaps if you two find several that are young and healthy we can arrange to have them sent back to Praxus." Crossbeam mused, considering his youngest creation and his creation's bondmate.

"So long as it does not damage your local ecology, I would enjoy the hunt and the Conservatory would favor you for the gift," Prowl said, trying to keep his excitement at a new challenge well in check.

"How can hunting do damage?" Cascade, a mid stage youngling with the signs of being a Host like his carrier, spoke up with a curious tilt of his elegantly horned and visored helm.

"Take too many from the wild population and you risk them dying out all together." Jazz explained. "And when one ecological factor disappears it harms all the other parts well."

The youth hummed a complex harmonic as he thought about that. "How do you know how many need to be left?"

"You don't always. It's a guessing game, built on numbers and facts. And when you start trying to guess with mechanimals like Thunderhorn it is even harder because of how difficult it is to get an accurate count of the current number. Left alone, they tend to balance themselves."

"Shouldn't you avoid hunting them, then?" the youngling pursued the line of questioning.

"If we were hunting to deactivate, like we do with troublesome razor boar or rogue greater crystal cats, we could cause a problem. Prowl and I are hunting for sport, with darts, and we'll only remove some if it looks like there are some to spare." Jazz told him.

"If it seems the population can't support the loss, we will keep an optic on it to make sure it is safe until the dart wears off," Prowl added. "All the excitement and challenge for us, but no harm to the population."

~Half an optic.~ Jazz teased his mate over their bond, along with reminders of things they had done while waiting for their catch to regain consciousness in the past. A soft rev escaped Prowl's engine and he gave his mate an unabashed look that promised Jazz would be pinned against the wall at the first opportunity.

"I think they may have another sparkling soon," Skysweep snickered with a distinct sense of approval.

"I wouldn't object," Prowl's rumble deepened.

"At least Steelplate's here," Bladesinger sighed dramatically at her brother, who snickered.

"Not _planning_ to have another until these two are older." Jazz said, amused as he reached out to tweak Bladesinger's small crest gently, though the look he gave Prowl in return invited all the attention his mate wished to give.

"They both seem healthy and strong, for being so close together." Skysweep offered with a smile, clear praise and hint of question in the comment.

"Thunderstorm's viability and Jazz's health were the top priority," Prowl said with an affectionate touch to both his creations. "Five vorns is very close together," he agreed. "It is why we decided to spend much of the time in a monastery. Jazz finds it much more restful, thus reducing the risks significantly."

No one in Jazz's family seemed surprised by that fact, though Cadence did frown slightly as he studied his brother again, careful optics judging Jazz's health for himself as he asked. "A wise idea, but why push so hard for a second so soon?"

"It wasn't planned," Prowl said simply. "Primus gifted us with a second new spark, healthy and strong. As long as it did not risk Jazz's future to do so, I will never reject a healthy creation."

Cadence settled back, satisfied with what he saw and with Prowl's admission that the health and welfare of his mate were important to him.

"The Lord of the House of Shining Sun must be pleased too." Quicksilver observed.

"Quite pleased," Prowl agreed. "He did not expect to meet my second creation. That both are projected to be very strong fliers has thrilled much of the House. It has been many generations since a flier has been our House Lord."

"So what do you think of our home so far, Lord Prowl?" Shimmer asked as the meal drew to a close.

"It is an excellent foundation for the generations to come and quite comfortable for this one," Prowl offered honest praise. "Captain Silver Crest was also very impressed by the barracks. Well constructed, efficient and comfortable without being excessive to a unit's needs," he passed on the comments of his chief guard. "It is much as Jazz led me to believe in his stories of growing up."

"Thank you." Crossbeam said, sincerely thanking Prowl for every beaming member of the House as he stood and offered a hand to Quicksilver, signaling the end of the meal.

She took it, allowing him to help her up, before nodding stiffly to Jazz and Prowl and taking her leave silently.

Crossbeam watched her, venting softly as he turned back to face his guests. "And your accommodations? Are they to your liking?"

"Yes," Prowl said easily. "The berth is soft enough for my wings, the washrack nice and our sparklings like their room. I anticipate it will be a pleasant place to stay."

"Good. Let me know if there is anything else you need, and the hunt you requested will be looked into within the next orn." Crossbeam said, finding a smile for Jazz and his grand-creations as they joined Prowl.

"I will, and thank you," Prowl inclined his helm politely, every inch the guest.

* * *

With the sparklings turned over to the care of Softlight and Surestrike, Prowl pulled his mate into their berthroom and pinned him against the wall the moment the door closed. A fierce kiss and pulsing field spoke well of the Praxian's desires as his hands roamed familiar plating. The kiss was returned with equal passion, field tangling with Prowl's as Jazz pulled the Praxian close. Desire triggered desire, each touch enflaming passion that the mates were never resistant to.

Almost reluctantly Prowl broke the kiss and nibbled his way along Jazz's jaw, down his throat and to his chest armor. Shudders ran through his mate's frame with every knowing touch and scorching kiss, sensations heightened by the shared passion between them. Jazz quivered, then reached out to stroke the sensor wings that were within easy reach, vorns of accumulated experience guiding his hands on just where and how to touch to reciprocate the attention being lavished on him.

They were both trembling in restrained desire by the time Prowl had knelt fully and planted a kiss of request on his mate's spike cover.

Surprise flickered in Jazz's field, but the next moment the cover slid aside, freeing his spike to his mate's attention. Driven by the passion and desire already burning in his circuits it pressurized quickly at Prowl's licking kisses.

"Never forget how much I love your spike," Prowl rumbled before taking it all the way down his intake until his nasal ridge was pressed against Jazz's spike housing.

His mate keened softly, systems working hard to dispel the heat building in his systems pushing heated air from his vents and across Prowl as Jazz willingly gave himself over the attention and affections of his mate. Attention and affection that were granted to him from Prowl's love, and nothing demanded of the Praxian by anything save his own spark, made it all the sweeter and more precious to Jazz.

~Love you, love every pleasure we share, every desire you have let me know of,~ Prowl moaned across their bond, his intake, glossa and lip plates all closing around and stroking the spike that had never been touched by another. ~You are so lovely in your pleasure.~

Jazz whimpered softly, adoring gaze focused on his mate and full of all the devotion and care for Prowl that radiated from his very spark across their meshed fields and their bond. "Love you." he managed as his hands worked the glorious wings in his grasp and his hips shifted in Prowl's hold, seeking the pleasure that Prowl was offering, indulging him with.

So wrapped up in the glory that was Prowl and their love it only took Jazz a few more moments of feeling and watching Prowl move up and down his spike before he lost it. With a cry that was more accompaniment than warning Jazz's hips jerked, every sensor in his spike seeming to fire at once as transfluid surged from it and passion driven overload surged through Jazz. He surrendered to it completely, trusting and feeling the pleasure his mate took in driving him to this overload.

Prowl hummed happily and continued to gently work his mate's spike as Jazz came down from the overload.

For a few kliks Jazz simply savored the warm haze of post overload, supported by his mate's strong hold and loving field. His visor flickered as he came back to awareness, and a small smile spread across his lips as one hand stroked Prowl's hand and another ran gently along the length of a wing. ~You are amazing, my love.~

~Thank you,~ Prowl purred and he finally drew fully off Jazz's spike and stood to kiss him softly. "Your valve ready to be taken from behind?" He asked with a nuzzle.

"By you?" Jazz leaned into the contact. "Always and only."

Another kiss and Prowl drew his mate to the berth and settled him on his front with his aft in the air and helm resting on his arms. Strong, sure white fingers ghosted over Jazz's valve cover, asking permission as always. Even if by all rights it was his to take as he pleased.

A soft sigh escaped Jazz as his frame relaxed and he bared his valve to his lover, offering all once again to the mech he loved. Sure, knowing fingers teased the slick, sensitive platelets to spread the lubricant around and simply enjoy the reactions Jazz gave.

Soft moans answered each touch, Jazz's back arching pleasure, showing off his frame to the only mech who had ever seen him like this and the only one Jazz _wanted_ to submit to.

"So lovely," Prowl purred as he leaned forward, shifting the angle of his fingers as he lined their frames up and sank into his mate with a welcoming moan as he gradually covered Jazz with his own frame and held there for a moment, relishing the sensation along his entire frame.

Jazz shivered, valve rippling in pleasure and pleasure rippling through his field to his mate as he was stretched and filled. He shifted his knees, spreading farther and shifting his weight to accommodate Prowl's where they touched, welcoming and willing.

"And only for you." He whispered, tilting his helm for a glimpse of his bonded. Prowl's face was near his, optics dim with pleasure as he began to thrust his hips against Jazz's.

Prowl's moaning was as much from Jazz's reactions as his own pleasure. With their bond wide open and fields fully meshed they'd barely touched before the sensations of one were flooding the other. 

Willing, trusting, and completely open, soft sounds being pushed from Jazz with each thrust and each surge of sensations across the bond, shared to the point that neither cared who it came from as both felt it. Smiling, Jazz deliberately tightened around his lover's spike. Prowl's moaning shudder was even more of a reward than the rush of pleasure through his own frame as sensor nodes were rubbed.

"Yes," Prowl shuddered again as he shifted his weight to capture Jazz's hands and entwine their fingers. It felt so good. He didn't care if it was a bit awkward or that he couldn't sink as deeply as possible in other positions. It triggered desires deep inside him that compensated and then some.

That fact that the mech was eager and willing, the desire washing over Prowl from his mate unique in that it was only ever for him, made the encounter all the more intense.

Jazz cry of pleasure as the change in angle struck a different set of sensors in his valve, or the way he shifted his to increase the contact and the friction between them, only encouraged and asked for more.

"Prowl..." Jazz moaned his mate's designation, intensely aware of every point of contact between them and the fire building in him. "Love you."

"My mate," Prowl growled in reply, so much more than the base meaning of the term in his resonant rendering. "My _Chosen_ ," he shuddered at the intensity of the offer, the claim, especially for a mech he hadn't known a century. "My Chosen," he said again, a whisper of the word as the building pleasure began to steal his voice.

It was Jazz who lost control first, crying out until his vocalizer gave out to static, frame arching against his mate as the charge that been building internally washed over him, crackling across his plating as his valve clenched around the thick spike.

Above him Prowl roared as his entire frame responded to the bliss by crashing into its own overload, filling Jazz's valve with heavily charged transfluid until it spilled out to run down their legs with each powerful thrust until Prowl locked up fully at the pinnacle of his pleasure.

Sated contentment drifted across the bond as they both came down from the high, Jazz's helm falling forward to rest on the berth as his joints locked at with the continued effort to support them both.

~Love you.~ He mumbled across the bond, not entirely coherent but meaning it completely.

~Love you,~ Prowl replied, only fractionally more coherent than his mate. Despite the reluctance to end the pleasure, he drew back and dropped to his side, his lower wing outstretched to brace him slightly while the upper one draped across Jazz's back.

With the weight lifted Jazz allowed his joints to unlock and promptly collapsed on the berth, shifting enough so that his entire frame was once again pressed against his mate's. Strong arms wrapped around him as Prowl's wing draped over him as they settled together once more, content not to move for a while.

Jazz lay there, basking in the warmth of his mate all around him as their systems settled back into resting pace. Finally coherent, he turned his helm to nuzzle at Prowl gently, somehow tucking himself tighter against the other mech. Curiosity rose as his processor began to fully function again and memories from dinner and some of the exchange that had led to that very delightful round of interfacing came with it.

~It wasn't just the political red tape that kept you from choosing the Seeker, was it?~ He asked, the weight of the emotions that had come from Prowl over the bond when the Seeker was being discussed fresh in Jazz's processor. ~Surely a _prince_ would have been worth the extra negotiating?~

~What I said was true. Lord Starscream and I know each other well. We were lovers for a time, with real hopes that it would turn into more,~ Prowl sighed deeply. ~He has good qualities. He is also self-centered, egotistical and erratic even for a royal Seeker. My logic center can't take it. It was just too much after a century. It didn't end well, though I have doubts that he's told anyone, and I do not express how poorly we get along now.~

For a while Jazz lay there, contemplating that and trying wrap his processor around the idea. It must have ended very badly, for Prowl to have decided that the Seeker's shortcomings were greater than the gain to the House of such a powerful alliance.

~It was a matter of life or death for me,~ Prowl said softly. ~Every time he crashed my logic center it did damage that can not be repaired. As far as it went, I have taken more permanent damage in battle. That would not have remained true if we bonded.~

With a shudder at the implications he kissed Prowl gently, selfish gladness swelling across the bond. ~Sorry for _you_ ,~ he said, referring to the fact that it had been unpleasant for Prowl, ~but not for the fact that is means you chose me over him.~

~As am I, that I did,~ Prowl murmured, hugging him close.

Jazz settled into the embrace, warmth and protection that ran both ways soothing across the bond.

* * *

Crossbeam surveyed the area marked out in the house's central courtyard, critical gaze checking the smoothed out surface once more for anything that might cause a problem in the upcoming fight as various members of the House and those visiting started to gather. It was only an exhibition, a test of skill between warriors for the purpose of training, learning, and in this case, display. The Praxian was a well-respected leader with many victories to his designation and his praises were openly sung by those who had served with him and under him as a brilliant tactician and skilled warrior who led from the front lines by preference.

But Crossbeam had never seen the young Lord Heir in action with his own optics, much less crossed blades with him. And even if there was no way to undo the bonding now, especially now that he was rather sure that his youngest creation was happy, Crossbeam's warrior spark demanded that he make sure this mecha was worthy of one of his creations.

Thus he had been privately thrilled when the Praxian had politely requested to spar in full armor and with real weapons as suiting experienced warriors, and to do so before his guard had left so they could watch. It may have been an act of hubris, except that Prowl asked with every respect and deference due a renowned warrior many times his senior. It spoke clearly that while the Praxian thought he could win, he wasn't certain of it.

If the younger mech had any ulterior motives to his request Crossbeam had yet to discover those as well, and actually found that he was looking forward to this. It eased his spark too that Jazz did not seem at all concerned by the fact that his creator was facing off against his bonded mate

The young mech left his creations in Steelplate's watchful care for a klik as Prowl appeared with the Captain of his guard. A nanoklik later Jazz froze in surprise as he took in Prowl's appearance.

~I did say full armor,~ Prowl purred at him, flaring his long sensor wings slightly to display the hardened line of spiked and sharpened armor protecting the vulnerable outer edge.

Slowly Jazz stepped closer, critical gaze taking in the mech standing before him from helm to pede as the Praxian displayed for him. Finally he looked back into Prowl's golden optics. ~And who is this handsome mech standing where my mate is supposed to be?~

~Your mate, ready to fight,~ Prowl rumbled as he tipped Jazz's chin up for a kiss that promised a worthy show.

~Then I look forward to rewarding him when the fight is over.~ Jazz purred as the kiss broke. Glancing sideways he didn't bother to hide his smile. ~I think you've managed to impress our creations as well.~

~They will both have similar armor, if they fight and choose to wear it,~ Prowl said before shifting to join Crossbeam in the sparing circle.

Jazz watched him go, then returned to where their creations waited with Steelplate, the guardian mech keeping one optic on his charges and one on the preparation for the match. Bladesinger was quivering with excitement and a small edge of concern as she looked at her carrier. "Creator and grandsire aren't going to hurt each other, right?"

"No brightspark." Jazz ran a hand lightly over her helm as he settled down to watch, one flying sparkling on each side. "This is training. For everyone to watch."

"Like what Sire goes out to watch most orns," Thunderstorm added, though he glanced at Jazz for confirmation that he understood correctly.

"Like that, yes. Though this will be somewhat different. This is the first time I've seen your sire in armor, or using real weapons in a match." Jazz agreed, gaze going back to his mate admiringly as both mecha made their way to the center.

Crossbeam stopped facing Prowl, taking in his opponent calmly. Prowl's armor was unquestionably fancier than his own, but despite its fine polish and repair, there was no doubting that this set had seen combat more than once and was often in the field. It had the look and finish of a field General's ... meant to make the wearer stand out among his troops but also meant to provide the same level of protection and maneuverability that any agility-oriented warrior needed.

The older warrior had no doubt that Prowl was very much agility oriented. Every line of his frame, armor and weapon choices spoke of a mecha who preferred to dodge than let his armor take a hit it didn't have to. What Crossbeam knew of Prowl's record spoke of the same. No fear of being injured, but also no predilection for it.

Across from him Prowl was taking Crossbeam's measure in turn. Well-fitted armor graced the much older mech's dark form, and the warrior wore it as a second skin. Taller and heavier than Jazz, with the same stubby horns and visor, there was no way to miss that Crossbeam and the armor he wore now had spent much of their existence in one battle or another, or preparing hard for it.

Prowl gave himself a 53.8% probability of winning the match as they bowed to each other and drew their weapons into a neutral stance.

"This is the first time you have gotten to see your sire fight like this, isn't it?" Steelpate rumbled softly to Jazz, taking Crossbeam's stance with the old single-bladed battle-ax and small shield.

"Yes." Jazz agreed. "His time at home was his time to rest and recover. He would spar on occasion, but nothing like this."

"Sire's going to win though," Thunderstorm said and asked all at once as the warriors circled each other.

Even in these first few moments the differences in style were as marked as the differences in their frames. Prowl's two weapons that could parry but not shield against Crossbeam's heavier weapon that couldn't parry well, but with a shield that could block. Perfected cutting damage vs. a crushing swing. Speed vs. power.

Prowl was the first to move, a lighting-fast attack towards Crossbeam's weapon arm. It was caught on Crossbeam's shield, the mech giving a step under the speed of the blow, ax coming around to strike at Prowl.

With the smoothness of intensive training both sword and wing-edge came up for the block even as Prowl twisted so his movement absorbed the bulk of the energy that manage to connect with him. In the same motion he slid his other sword down to jab at Crossbeam's side.

A calculated shove threw the strike far enough that it was little more than a glancing blow, and as they parted ways there was a new light in Crossbeam's dark blue visor, calculating and approving and much more wary.

Prowl's wings flared slightly at the complement as they circled each other, the movement glinting off hardened armor that Crossbeam realized was sharpened and spiked in every strategic location. Even without his swords, the Praxian's very armor made him a walking weapon. The first blows they'd exchanged also spoke of the upgraded strength and speed hidden in a frame few thought could even learn to fight.

Crossbeam couldn't help but wonder how many of Prowl's victories were because someone underestimated the political creation of a largely pacifist city leading an army.

With a burst of power from his legs Prowl darted forward to slash at Crossbeam's shield arm.

Crossbeam's response was to meet Prowl, accepting the blow for another chance to strike, this time much more aware of the speed and power with which the Praxian could react and prepared to react himself. He stepped into the attack and swung at Prowl, trying to reach past the wing-armor and either cut into the sensitive and lightly protected surfaces beyond, or all the way to Prowl's back.

Once again the wing edge caught the blow, this time almost squarely on the primary joint so the force ran down the strongest strut in the wing to be absorbed by Prowl's frame.

They broke again, circling for a moment as Crossbeam considered, taking the initiative to strike first this and aiming lower, ax sweeping at Prowl's knee joint with an ever wary optics still on the Praxian's blades. As his frame lowered for the strike, however, Prowl leapt up and snapped his right wing, the one that no shield guarded against, forward with a twisting of his frame to crash into the side of Crossbeam's helm with the force of a hard punch.

The large mech grunted softly, a clear sign that even as he moved with the impact and his helmet took some of the blow that he had indeed felt it. But with a singleness of purpose he did not allow it to interrupt his strike, ax still connecting with Prowl's lower leg, the blow hard enough to be audible to all watching.

From where they were watching Jazz picked up and edge of distress from Bladesinger, and shifted the aerial so that she was sitting in his lap to watch. His own field, excited and unafraid, wrapped around her soothingly as he spoke softly in her audio, starting a running commentary.

"It's all right brightspark. The worst damage they are both likely to get is stripped paint from the lectures when the medics are done with them. Medics don't like it when warriors beat themselves up, even in the name of training. See?"

She watched as her sire landed on his undamaged pede first, testing the one that had been hit before putting his fully weight on it again.

The warriors circled each other, each now with enough experience to have a solid gauge on the other. Prowl recalculated his odds of winning and promptly dismissed the result. It didn't matter what his odds were. He would not surrender until he had to.

Crossbeam's expression was neutral, but there was the same calculating air about him. He was aware of Prowl's wings now as a weapon that the warrior knew how to use, and not just a well-defended weak point that he could potentially exploit. He now knew that the sharpened armor could decapitate against an unarmored neck.

This was a different sort of challenge, battling a Praxian trained to such a high level in the art of combat and specialized in the use of their frame as a weapon. Even among warriors it was not uncommon to rely almost completely weapons. It was a challenge that made him think as he had not been required to in some time.

Another second of consideration and Crossbeam shifted his grip on his ax before striking again. He saw Prowl do something extraordinary in his opinion. Prowl's swords were sheathed, freeing his hands as he rolled into Crossbeam's strike, grabbed the larger mech's wrist and used both their momentum to throw Crossbeam to the edge of the ring.

Both blades were out and Prowl on the attack before the older mech's processors finished tracking the movement.

Centuries of experience had reflexes in motion without conscious thought, Crossbeam shifting his frame and the weapons he had maintained his hold of to catch the strike. He gave under it before putting his whole frame into retaliation, heaving Prowl off and away from him.

The momentum was continued into a familiar move back to his pedes and to the ready, approval clear. He waited until he had Prowl's complete attention once more and then signaled a halt and made another motion with his shield arm. A dark armored mech stepped forward at the command.

"Rampart. Captain of the House guard." Jazz murmured for his creations' benefit, allowing them to attach a name and rank to the new mech.

"Hand to hand?" Crossbeam asked, already offering his ax to the mech at his side.

Prowl nodded and caught Silver Crest's optic after glancing at Jazz, noting how he was occupied with their sparklings. He tossed her both blades, which were caught with the ease of one used to doing so and who trusted the tosser implicitly.

With a flare of armored sensor wings that ended with the three fingers separating fully before closing once more. It was an act designed to make him look far more impressive, and it worked. Prowl settled into a light crouch, ready to defend himself.

Crossbeam nodded before gliding forward with a grace almost out of place from a mech of his size and build, scanning for an opening and on the lookout for a preemptive strike from his opponent. This too was a new challenge, since his normal tactic of using a Praxians' wings against them was severely hindered by the armor gracing Prowl's. The cutting edges on them and the maneuverability that Prowl had already displayed with them gave the Praxian an edge that Crossbeam lacked. A vulnerability had become a strength with training and armor.

All of this was considered in an instant, Crossbeam not even pausing on his approach as he closed with Prowl, intent on testing his greater mass against the Praxian's strength. Only it was an angle that Prowl had no inclination to comply with.  
         
The faint sound of a minor transformation sequence was only barely audible over their systems as sensor wings were pulled tight against Prowl's frame and he darted forward, low and slightly wide to get behind Crossbeam, before lashing out with razor sharp claws to slice the multitude of lines that connected arm to chassis.

The larger mech wasn't quite quick enough to dodge the blow and was clearly testing the arm as he spun to face Prowl, growling very softly. His visor flashed as he reached for the Praxians' arm, catching hold and twisting his frame to throw the other mech to the ground.

Prowl relaxed and rolled with the movement, aware that he didn't have the mass or strength to effectively counter it. Instead he focused on causing damage with his greater reach. Weaponized claws cut into cabling in the lower arm while sensor wings snapped forward to close on Crossbeam's neck with their sharp, hardened armor edges from the lower sides. In a real battle, he would have put much more force behind it, intent on decapitating his opponent and willing to risk serious injury himself to do so. Here he was merely struggling for points.

Crossbeam reached up, knocking one of the wings away and accepting the slice on his arm to save his neck, angling his helm so that his helmet took the brunt of the other wing's strike.

With a grunt he freed his arm, catching Prowl's near wing, forcing both mechs down and pinning the deadly limbs with his knees. He felt the agony rip through Prowl's field as Crossbeam's mass landed on the sensitive panels, but that was the only indication the Praxian gave. He struggled to free them briefly, but gave up when it was clear that he'd tear them before he freed them.

A brief struggle for control of hands ensued, though it was more token effort on Prowl's part to force this to a full pin rather than surrendering. With another growl Crossbeam finally gained control of Prowl's wrists, accepting the additional cuts in his arms to bring the match to an end.

He felt a flash of triumph when Prowl went lax, surrendering to his pin exactly as the rules demanded and no sooner. It was also good to feel the lack of any negative reaction in the Praxian. Disappointment, but no anger or the like.

"Well won, Crossbeam," Prowl said as he was allowed to stand. Sensor wings flicked out, stretching and spreading the fingers briefly before settling.

"Well fought, Prowl." Crossbeam responded, meaning every word as he rolled a shoulder, the limb moving stiffly from the strain of pinning Prowl and the damage the Praxian had inflicted with his claws. "My creation is well protected." He added softly, facing Prowl.

A small, pleased smile crossed Prowl's features as he offered his arm in a warrior's shake between compatriots who no longer cared about rank between them. "He is a fine warrior in his own right, improving every vorn. It will not be long until he reaches his goal and will stand by my side always."

Crossbeam accepted the offered arm, grip firm and field warm. "A noble goal, and one that our enemies should fear."

Movement caught both of their attention, and Crossbeam offered a true smile at the sight of Jazz holding on to Bladesinger. "And now I think your family wishes to see you before the medics get their hands on both of us."

Prowl chuckled lightly and let go of Crossbeam's arm before turning to embrace Jazz, Bladesinger between them, while a sensor wing stretched out to draw Thunderstorm close.

~Did you enjoy watching?~ Prowl purred, more than a bit revved up from the fight as he claimed a kiss from his mate.

~Very much so.~ Jazz answered, kissing his mate in return. ~And your creations were very concerned for you.~

"I was in no danger," Prowl promised both sparklings, reaching down to draw Thunderstorm closer. "Sparring is not something to fear."

"She was scared. I knew what was going on," Thunderstorm said defiantly, though he didn't resist being held close.

"But you're hurt." Bladesinger held up a hand, a small stain of Prowl's energon on her fingers.

~They'll understand soon enough.~ Jazz smiled, stepping back to make room for Bladesinger and Thunderstorm to be near their sire. ~There was a time when I worried for my sire, once I understood that he could be hurt, and before I figured out that he was in little danger when he was training. Though even I would feel better if you let the medics see to you soon. And to sire.~

~Yes, love,~ Prowl chuckled. "It is easily repaired. You will see. We will both be without a mark by dinner," he promised before glancing around. A slender black and silver cycleformer with a reddish-purple visor was hauling the much larger Lord of the House away, railing at him every step.

"She said we can use her medbay," the field medic for Prowl's guard came up, trying not to crack up at the civilian medic's reaction.

"Good," Prowl chuckled and patted Strongarm on the shoulder before following him.

* * *

It was still early in the orn as Jazz led his mate through the wildlands that that surrounded the House, alert to his surroundings but completely at ease in familiar landscape. Sure pedes covered uneven terrain with ease, the pace steady but not so fast that they were unable to enjoy the clear orn or that he forced his less knowledgeable companion stress.

~It there anything at the top other than the view?~ Prowl asked as he paid far more attention to where he was going, though he had enough time to enjoy what was around them.

~A nice place to rest, when you want to be where no one is going to find you.~ Jazz answered easily as the reached the first of a series of inclines. ~But the view alone is worth the effort.~

~So an excellent view and the relative privacy to short your vocalizer,~ Prowl rumbled, leaving no doubts as to how he planned to do that. ~It has been a while.~

~Going to have to work hard to top that night after you sparred with Sire.~ Jazz teased, pausing to turn and kiss his mate. ~And this time there will be no sparklings in the next room over that we have to mute our vocalizers for.~

Prowl rumbled into the kiss and reached to pull his mate close, his field alive with desire. 

Jazz smiled at his mate, allowing himself to be pulled close but deliberately keeping a check on his own desire. "All yours. At the top. It'll be worth the wait." Promise rippled across the bond.

"We'll see who breaks first," Prowl grinned with a devilish promise that no matter what, it would be well worth it.

Jazz kissed him again, light and quick, before pulling away and starting up the mountain once more. The inclines quickly gave way to steep, narrow trails, where there were any trails at all. ~Don't mind free climbing, do you love?~

~Be glad Silver Crest isn't going to hear of this,~ Prowl chuckled. ~I know how to free climb.~

~I won't tell her if you won't. Steelplate used to give me pit over this.~ Jazz answered as he started up the rockface, testing each hand and foothold with care and not just the idea that it would support him, but Prowl as well if his mate chose to follow the same route. He kept sensors and an optic on Prowl as much as he could, and quickly picked up yet another use for those sensor wings he loved so much; apparently they gave Prowl a good reading on the material around him.

As Jazz pulled himself onto the next section where they could walk, he was treated to watching his mate _leap_ onto the ledge in a smooth motion more reminiscent of watching a flier land than a grounder climb.

"Showoff." He grumbled at his mate with a smile, but the admiration and desire that flickered over the bond were enough to tell Prowl what he really thought of the display, and the mech making it.

"For what it inspires in you," Prowl let the desire he felt for Jazz's response come across clearly as he closed the small distance between them.

"A prayer of thanks to Primus for such a handsome mate?" Jazz teased, looking into the golden optics as Prowl caught him around the waist and pulled him close for a soft kiss that gradually deepened.

~Desire for that mate,~ Prowl rumbled as his hands slid down to Jazz's aft and squeezed as he pulled his mate against himself.

~Always desire you.~ Jazz responded, the bond allowing for the added layers of meaning. Desire not just for his mate's frame and the pleasure they shared, but for spark and bond and the very life they had built together.

He smiled as the kiss broke. "Higher." He reminded his mate.

"We have all orn," Prowl rumbled as he stepped forward, pressing his mate against the wall.

"Not if you make it so that I can't climb the rest of the way." Jazz pointed out, field switching to light and teasing more than a little challenge in it.

"Oh, so my lovely mate can't walk after a single overload?" Prowl teased and challenged right back as his field pushed all the way through Jazz.

"I can." Jazz purred as he softly kissed his mates face. "But can you stop with giving me just one?"

"If I want to," Prowl crooned, one finger slipping between Jazz's legs to tease his valve cover.

"Higher." Jazz urged again, promise answering the challenge as he bit back a moan from the intimate touch. "Unless _you_ can't wait."

With a line of nipping kisses down Jazz's jaw and throat, Prowl let him go. "I can, but you won't be walking till dawn if I do."

"I fail to see where I lose then." Jazz answered as he regained control, looking over his shoulder as he started up the irregular game trail. His mate followed, a touch more carefully for his lack of familiarity with the path and to give himself plenty of opportunities to look, and occasionally touch his mate, but for now Prowl was willing to let them climb.

Jazz was not immune to the touches of his mate, or the effect he was having on Prowl. He egged it on shamelessly, teasing his mate as they climbed, challenging his mate and reminding Prowl of his promise.

Finally he stopped, turning to look at Prowl. "Trust me?"

"Yes," the simple answer spoke volumes from a warrior mech in unknown territory.

"Turn off your optics and dim your wings." Jazz instructed, reaching out to take Prowl's hands in his own. He felt Prowl's surprise, and was gratified when his mate complied without further question. He was asking a _lot_ of the Praxian, he knew. He hoped it would be worth it for Prowl to experience the vista as Jazz first had.

Jazz led him along slowly, watching the trail carefully as he led his mate up the last steep rise and the wide ledge that it opened onto.

There he led Prowl along, positioning his mate so that when Prowl finally turned his optics back on he would be able to see everything.

Because from where they were, a very young Jazz had almost believed he could see everything there was to see.

"Ok. You can look."

Spread out before them, as far as the optic could see, was wildland, seemingly endless and full of possibility.

Jazz was suitably gratified at the gasp Prowl let out as he took in the view, then their bond widened a bit as Prowl _showed_ him what it was like for a Praxian to go from sensor and optic blind to the full grasp of such a vista, sharing the full breath of what his sensor suite picked up beyond the norm.

A shudder ran through Jazz's frame as he came around behind Prowl, wrapping his arms around his mate. "Told you it was worth it." He whispered, still trying to process everything that Prowl was sharing with him and overjoyed that his mate seemed to appreciate this as he had.

"I never doubted that," Prowl turned his helm for a kiss which was this time willingly given; warm, welcome and offering everything that Jazz was to his mate once more. A soft moan escaped Prowl as the kiss deepened gradually, their frames heating and fields meshing together without conscious effort. Prowl's hands ran down Jazz's back, exploring long familiar plating.

~Seems like you were trying hard enough to delay seeing it.~ Jazz teased, suddenly allowing every bit of heat and desire that he had been holding back free rein to flood across the bond.

~Perhaps because you will always be a more enticing sight,~ Prowl rumbled, flickers of images of Jazz, both sleek and fighting fit and thick with sparkling crossing the bond with equal adore. ~Do you want to see all of this while I blow your processors?~

"Yes." Jazz moaned, ~Love being able to see you too, though.~

~Just look down then,~ Prowl grinned as he kissed his way across Jazz's face, dusting whisper-light kisses along the bright blue visor he loved.

His mate shivered in his arms, soaking up the attention and adding to the sensations shared across their bond. It was worth the effort of denying himself and his mate for a time for the passion and desire that resulted when they finally gave in.

He pulled Prowl close, catching his mate's lips in a kiss full of the desire for the other mech. ~Going to make good on that threat?~

~When have I ever failed to?~ Prowl grinned as he began to nip and lick his way down Jazz's jaw, then neck. ~It will be long past sunrise before you're capable of walking down again.~

~Never.~ Jazz admitted, hands beginning to wander over his mate's plating and wings as he moaned with the first touches to his chest. Promise or threat Prowl had always kept his word.

Strong fingers slipped into seams on broth frames, teasing and enticing while Prowl slowly slid to his knees as he worked his way down. Jazz's frame was trembling by the time his mate reached his hips, willing to give Prowl whatever the mech wanted so long as the flood of physical and emotional pleasure continued between them.

Slow, torturously sweet kisses and a devilish glossa crept down the edge of one leg joint, then just barely ghosted over Jazz's spike cover to tease their way up the other side before moving between them and licking downward again.

This time Prowl stopped over Jazz's spike cover and made an insistent mewling purr against the sensitive metal. There was an answering, eager purr from Jazz as the cover slid away, exposing the tip of the spike beneath it.

"Love your spike," Prowl purred before sliding his glossa around the rim of the housing, slowly working his way inward with each circle.

~Love it when you do this.~ Jazz responded, honestly loving any attention from his mate but enjoying it so much more when the pleasure was something that Prowl preferred as well.

Like this.

With their bond so open there was no way mistake how much Prowl adored lavishing attention on Jazz's spike, how much he got off on the feel of it against his lip plates, along his glossa, down his intake. It was incomprehensible to Jazz not that long ago how the one _giving_ oral could receive so much pleasure from it. Now he understood, not just as an act of love, but as an act of pure sensuality and even control for Prowl as it was an indulgence for Jazz. The unique feel of his mate like this, and the sensor panels that Jazz found so attractive on the mecha he loved within his reach. To play with and worship and share the blissful pleasure being given.

So caught up in simply enjoying the touch and the pleasure shared, it nearly came as a surprise to Jazz when he felt the tipping point where an overload was all but inevitable.

"Love." He whined, hands stroking Prowl's wings firmly as his hips rolled into the pleasure.

~Relax, love,~ Prowl replied, adding suction and a deep hum to his efforts. ~You taste so good.~

Jazz keened softly, letting go and letting the charge simply roll through him and into his mate as he overloaded. In return he felt Prowl's pleasure, less physical but just as strong, as hot, heavily charged transfluid rushed across his glossa and down his intake, spreading the charge into Prowl's core.

Jazz's systems hummed, hot air washing over his mate as Jazz relaxed into the support that Prowl offered as the charge slowly dwindled, easing Jazz into a place of contentment. His mate echoed his gentle pleasure as Prowl cleaned Jazz's spike before leaving it to continue his journey down, between Jazz's spread legs.

A soft moan escaped Jazz at the first brush of glossa over valve cover, heat and lubricant leaking from the edges. He shifted his frame, the rock wall behind him taking more of his weight as his legs spread wider.

"Love it when you take me." He whispered, gaze dropping down to where his mate was working and valve cover sliding away. "Love it when you claim me, over and over, reminding me that I am _yours_."

Prowl rumbled deeply, his field flaring out to press into his mate with the arousal the words and sentiment caused in him. He hummed, channeling the vibration through his glossa as he stroked the slick, sensitive platelets around his mate's valve.

Jazz squirmed, hips pushing into the feel of the glossa, wanting more. "Love being yours." He continued, answering the arousal with want and desire. It felt impossibly good when his love took him like this. The mixture of Prowl in complete control and the pleasure centered on Jazz was intoxicating for them both. That they both knew it would end in an intense overload, or three, only heightened the anticipation.

Jazz whined softly, hands reaching for his mate's sensor wings once more, wanting more. Wanting to be stretched and filled until he couldn't walk again, as Prowl had promised. Wanting to feel the charge and rush of overload, and not just his own but that of his mate's.

~You know the delay is worth it,~ Prowl purred as he lapped at the dense network of sensor nodes, teasing them into firing rather than pounding them into firing.

Just because he knew that didn't ease the pleasurable torture in the moment. A soft growl escaped him at having his own words thrown back at him, teasing and challenging as he let the sensations his mate was creating flow back across the bond. ~It is.~

He felt Prowl moan against his platelets, the rush of pleasure it generated in Prowl's frame, but also the determination to take Jazz all the way to the point of no return before filling him in a single powerful stroke. It was a determination that sent a shiver of anticipation through his mate as Jazz stopped fighting to control his reactions to the charge building in his frame and what his mate was doing to him and gave over to feeling once more.

Each stroke of glossa over sensor node sent a wave of pleasure through his frame, savored and shared. The firm, warm support of Prowl's hands on his hips encouraged him to let go, to trust completely. The building desire and anticipation between them, growing as it was accepted and echoed. The soft, warning rumble of Jazz's systems as they worked to counter the heat building in his frame.

Jazz moaned at the first wisps of energy over his plating another fresh rush of lubricant from his valve. His frame began to tremble as Prowl's glossa became more assertive and strong white fingers worked into his hip joints.

~You taste so good. You feel even better," Prowl rumbled, sharing both his current enjoyment and memories of what it felt like for him to press into a valve already spasming in the first stage of overload.

Jazz keened softly, valve rippling in response to what Prowl was sharing with him, inviting. Despite Jazz's desire Prowl knew Jazz's frame at least as well as Jazz did and wasn't going to give into their desire until the timing was perfect. It was a tiny bit of selfishness he indulged himself in, knowing his mate didn't really mind as long as he didn't do it often. This time it wasn't something that he had to wait long for, his mate's cry a split second warning before the other mech lost the shred of control he had over holding his frame back.

Without hesitation Prowl surged upright, grabbed his mate's hips and used momentum and grip to sheath himself fully in the quivering valve. The moan that escaped him was shuddering and came from his core, driven as much by his own love of this as the actual sensations.

The valve around his spike rippled and squeezed, the incoherent pleasure his mate felt at being stretched and taken surging over the bond as Jazz grabbed on to him, already caught in his first overload.

~Primus you feel so good,~ Prowl moaned across their bond, sharing as much as he could of how _incredible_ this felt for him with his mate as he thrust deep and hard. He knew what his mate could take, what he enjoyed, and pushed their coupling to the very limit.

Somewhere amid riding out that first explosive wave Jazz lifted his helm, finding his mate's lips and kissing the other mech passionately as a second charge began to build.

~Take me.~ Jazz begged, pleaded like he would with no one else and for no one else.

~Always,~ Prowl promised as he returned the passionate kiss, his own charge near its crest. ~So good,~ he moaned, trembling and pressing Jazz's back against the rocks behind him a little harder for support. His hands flexed on Jazz's aft, pulling him even closer as Prowl's hips drove into Jazz's relentlessly, chasing the overload that was blooming inside him.

Jazz shifted a leg, wrapping it around his mate and changing everything just enough bring his mate closer, deeper. He moaned, hand reaching around too to find the beautifully spread sensor wings, willing and eager to help find Prowl that first overload. 

That shift and touch was enough to cause Prowl to roar into a keen, his optics flashing white then almost off as the long-denied charged crashed through him relentlessly. Jazz's blissful cry matched Prowl's as charged transfluid filled his valve, striking the primed sensor nodes and adding to wonderful rush of his mate's overload.

They remained there, locked together and only able to shiver in ecstasy as wave after wave of energy rolled through them.

~You feel so good, love,~ Prowl whispered across the bond as he began to recover enough control to thrust into that rippling, welcoming valve again.

Jazz's answer was a purr of delight, nuzzling at Prowl as he clung to the other mech, letting actions and emotions tell his mate how good this felt, how good _Prowl_ felt in him and around him on every level.

* * *

Warm and content and with a deep sense of _knowing_ that he was safe and loved, Jazz powered up slowly, coming out of recharge peacefully and almost reluctantly. Vision remained powered off as he simply snuggled into the warm frame wrapped around his own, the safety of the weight against him, as his processor caught up with the rest of him. Finally he smiled and looked up at his mate, nuzzling Prowl affectionately in the dim green light of their optics. ~Thank you, love.~

~It was my pleasure,~ Prowl nuzzled him back, then kissed him softly. The subtle movement reminded them both that Prowl was still buried deep inside his mate. ~Watch the dawn like this, or hazy with pleasure?~

~Like this is good.~ Jazz answered as he laid his helm on his mates' shoulder, optics noting the first flushes of color on the horizon. He shifted enough to free a hand, stroking it over Prowl's armor where a streak of his paint discolored the normally pristine finish of his mate.

~Yes, it is,~ Prowl snuggled in a bit more, shifting his spike inside Jazz as he pulled out so they could face the sunrise together. Prowl wrapped his arms and wings around his mate as they settled into a comfortable position to watch Cybertron's giant yellow-orange sun rise over the jagged metal peaks of the wildlands of Simfur.

It was peaceful and compared to the hustle and bustle of Praxus, or even the smaller compound that Jazz had once called home, and very quiet. Jazz leaned back, listening to the subtle sound of his mate's systems and sensing the deeper feel that that was his mate's spark as the sky changed colors, and shadowed shapes became recognizable features of the land.'

Even though he knew it wasn't going to last, Jazz was sure that he could get very used to this.

~Hold onto these memories,~ Prowl advised gently with a touch of sadness. ~I will not be able to indulge you with them much longer. I should not even now.~

~Close to my spark.~ Jazz promised with a smile, acceptance and contentment clear. He understood. The memories, the knowledge of what Prowl had given him, would be enough.

Prowl nuzzled him, gratitude for that acceptance warm between them as they settled in to watch once more.

The sun had risen far enough to start warming them where they sat before Jazz forced himself to function again, tilting his helm to nuzzle Prowl gently.

"I think I can walk again, love. With some energon in me." He claimed his mate's lips in a soft kiss. "And we should get back to Thunderstorm and Bladesinger."

Prowl, not the least to Jazz's surprise, produced two cubes of energon from his subspace and handed one around to his mate. "Steelplate knows we were distracted. I'd be shocked if our creations were surprised."

That had Jazz chuckling as he accepted the cube, sipping at it slowly and not in a terrible hurry just yet. "I am sure they know more than you and I wish them to. I am sure they are not."

Prowl hummed in agreement and nuzzled Jazz's cheek between sips of energon. "I think it would be more surprising to all three of them if we _didn't_ become distracted by the view."

"Which view?" Jazz quipped with a smile, sharing a quick image of Prowl in a very attractive position, wings flared for balance and concentrating, from the climb the day before.

"This one," Prowl shared an image he'd had repeatedly of Jazz's white aft wiggling only an arm's length away as they climbed, and the slightly more usual angle of that same aft as they walked up the trails.

"I still say we tell them it was this one," Jazz nodded out towards the wildlands as he finished his energon, "Even if there is no way that Steelplate will believe me."

Prowl chuckled softly. "No adult who's paid attention to us together will." He hugged Jazz against his chest, his field and the bond full of warmth and affection. "It's a suitable thing to say, however."

~He would have before I met you.~ Jazz replied as he claimed a kiss from his mate. "Ready to go?"

"Mmm, I suppose I am," Prowl reluctantly let his mate go. "It would be best not to mention this to my kin. At least the part about us coming unguarded."

"We went for a walk. No one else needs to know the details." Jazz pointed out, all innocence as he stretched slowly, discovering that he was a little more sore than he had first thought with a small wince.

"Are you well enough to get down?" Prowl asked with honest concern.

"I'm fine." Jazz was quick to assure him. "Just a little slower, and no show today." He added with mock regret.

"The reward will be a long, warm oil bath soak and shower," Prowl promised, his fingers sliding over Jazz's frame that was marked by his colors. "We might want to get most of this off before returning," he suggested.

"Work on it when we take a break later? I've got some polishing cloths." Jazz suggested even as he leaned into the touch.

"As do I," Prowl tipped his face up for a long, languid kiss. "That is agreeable."

* * *

Jazz made his way through the familiar halls of the House of Crossbeam, taking a route that he had traveled thousands of times and that was so ingrained into him that he could have walked in it his recharge. May have, more than once.

He hadn't quite believed it when he had been informed that his rooms had remained untouched after his departure, left exactly as he had left them on the orn of his leave-taking. It had made his spark twist for a moment, the barest hint of remembered homesickness flickering through him. His sire's words were still clear in his memory, spoken on Jazz's bonding day with all the weight of a promise before Primus in them. No matter what happened, the House of Crossbeam would always be a place of refuge and safety for Jazz. But it was a small House, and there were purposes that his rooms could be turned to besides standing empty waiting on a mecha that would probably never return to them.

The door opened to his code and Jazz stepped inside, optics quickly picking out the things that he had come to retrieve. Several datafiles, some of them pictures, other books. Another set of stoneworking tools that had often accompanied him to the field and had been a gift from his brother when he was young. The last few things he wanted were in a box Cadence had been keeping for him, and that Jazz made a note to get back from his brother before they left to return to Praxus.

"Not content with what you have already taken from the House?" A sharp, familiar voice snapped from the doorway.

"I've taken nothing that isn't my personal property," Jazz told Quicksilver, his voice calm and level to an extent it even surprised him a bit. Maybe Prowl and all the time in the larger House learning to be what they expected of a First Bonded had changed him more than he'd expected.

The lithe, silver femme stepped inside the room, red optics making a sweeping check before coming back to rest on Jazz, as critical and judgmental as he recalled.

"The Lord of the House of Shining Sun certainly seems pleased enough with you, though I cannot imagine why. Or has the novelty just not warn off enough yet for him to see you for the spoiled, childish thing that you are?"

There was the Quicksilver he remembered in full, and yet now he could truly see her for the sad creature she was. He knew what love was, devotion, care ... and he didn't need her approval any more. A small smile crossed his features, though she couldn't see it as he went about picking out the few final items he intended to take with him.

"Why don't you ask him?" Jazz suggested sweetly. "He is not shy about expressing his honest opinion of anything he knows."

"Warn him, you mean?" She snapped in return, arms crossing. "Or perhaps you are just keeping him happy with throwing creations at him now. What are you going to do when you can no longer do that and he puts you aside for someone else?"

Jazz actually chuckled. "How I keep him happy is my business. If he does select another as his First Chosen, I will still always be the First Bonded to the Lord of the Shining Sun."

She snorted, the sound bitter. "Bonded status means little, and your status will change once you start causing the sort of trouble for him that you always did for me. You are your carrier's creation, headstrong and willful, for all that your frame resembles your sire's more. May he have the joy of you, when you bring disgrace to his House."

"I give what I receive," he said sweetly, a pointed edge on his tone. "Prowl will do with me as he sees fit."

"Than may he bring you to heel where I could not and make your functioning something _useful_ , and not a waste of space and resources." One hand swept out, lumping Jazz into the same category as the room they were standing in.

A low, deadly growl came from behind her, startling even Jazz. Her reaction was almost comical, optics going bright in surprise reaction-fear as a half turn allowed to see the door once more and the powerful Praxian warrior-lord there, his three-panel sensor wings spread in a blatant threat display and golden optics glowing to a near-white.

Jazz's reaction, while still clearly indicating that he had not expected anyone to come to his rescue, calmed in an instant at the sight of his mate.

Prowl stalked forward and caught Quicksilver's chin, tipping her face up with a knuckle under the rounded metal. "Give me one reason I should not take _offense_ at your words."

"Offense? Warning." Quicksilver replied, voice quivering slightly as she answered, and her frame rigid with tension.

"I am well aware of your hatred of my First Chosen," Prowl's rumble matched the flare and cant of his sensor wings, a movement that Jazz was now well aware meant a willingness to commit violence. It was a willingness his field expressed just as clearly to the femme close to him. "I may not understand what began this fight, but I am quite willing to _end_ it."

The femme in his grasp when limp and submissive as the full impact of the Praxian's field washed over her, optics almost white in fear.

~Let her go love.~ Jazz reached out, pleading across the bond. Not out of any sympathy for the femme in his mate's grasp, but still aware of all the ramifications if his mate were to bring harm to her beyond scaring her out of her processor. ~Please.~

Pale golden optics focused on Jazz. "Her life is yours, as the wronged party," Prowl told his mate, a carefully controlled tendril across the bond expressing how in control Prowl was, that his rage, while founded in reality, was not nearly as intense as his display indicated.

"Trouble, and nothing else." Jazz answered quietly as he looked at the femme. He had moved on from his misery and built a new life, one where he was happy. She might never take that step, and something closer to sympathy filled him. ~She's not worth it. I've learned that.~ "Let her go."

~I'm glad,~ Prowl purred across the bond with a wash of pride and pleasure. Physically, he simply nodded and dropped his hand. "Go," he told Quicksilver. The femme didn't argue, scrambling from the room as quickly as she could manage without a backwards glance or any care for her dignity. Prowl didn't look after her, instead he focused on his mate and drew Jazz close for a tender kiss. ~I hope I didn't overdo that display.~

~I dare say she won't be bothering me again.~ Jazz replied, wrapping his arms around his mate. ~And there is nothing that she can say to anyone else without giving herself away.~

After a moment he pulled back enough to look up into his mate's now-normal optics. ~Thank you.~

~My pleasure,~ Prowl kissed his forehelm. ~Have you gathered what you came for?~

~Everything but that.~ Jazz nodded to a piece of art hanging on the wall. It was a somewhat abstract piece, made of stone and metal, but when one looked closely it very much resembled the view of the wildlands in the rising sun they had witnessed that morning.

~Your work?~ Prowl asked as he regarded the piece after letting Jazz go to retrieve it.

~I sketched the design and did the stonework. I had help with the metalwork.~ Jazz answered, handling it carefully. "I was afraid to bring it with me at first, but since they are going to break these rooms down now I thought I should rescue it while I was here."

"Mmm, your sire is now convinced that you will no longer need to escape from me?" Prowl purred, wrapping his arms carefully around his mate to kiss his cheek.

"He is convinced that I am happy where I am and well taken care of, and that I have no desire to leave my home." He nuzzled Prowl gently, the sense of exactly what he meant by _home_ singing across the bond.

Prowl spark fluttered with several sharp pulses of intense joy. His arms tightened slightly, only his intense self-control keeping him from squeezing too hard. He tried to say something, but his vocalizer refused to form words.

Jazz laughed softly, the sound filled with affection and amusement at his mate's expense as he leaned into the warm frame. ~I love you.~

~I love you, and our family,~ Prowl whispered in reply, his frame trembling minutely in his joy.

* * *

The laughter coming out from the garden had Crossbeam smiling before he even entered the small, sheltered area. He stopped just inside the entrance, waiting for the watchful mech seated on a large stone that had been specifically placed to be sat upon to acknowledge his presence before approaching the sparklings playing on the far side.

His creations' mate was a skillful and powerful mech, and Crossbeam respected him all the more after their stay. It was a great ease to the warrior's spark, seeing how happy his creation was, recalling Jazz's almost rebellion when Jazz had left for Praxus all those orns ago and the underlying hesitation that had been evident in his youngest on the mech's bonding orn. That Prowl loved his mate and family was clear, and Crossbeam found himself realizing that he was going to be sad to see all of them depart on the next orn.

"Prowl. Bladesinger, Thunderstorm." He greeted them all.

"Crossbeam," Prowl inclined his helm with a partial turn to be polite.

"Grandsire," Bladesinger cheered and ran to hug him.

"Crossbeam," Thunderstorm tipped his wing-struts in a flier's greeting.

Bladesinger was caught up in a swift hug, Crossbeam tossing her into the air and smiling as she squealed. Catching her just as easily as he had thrown her he set her back on her pedes. "Are you two having fun?"

"Yes grandsire," she grinned up at him. "Even stuck in the slag there is."

"Bladesinger!" Prowl snapped, a scowl marring his strong features.

"Sorry, Sire," her wings flicked down in apology and submission. "Sorry Thunderstorm."

Crossbeam had to work hard to hide the smile that threatened, and even harder to keep his amusement out of his field as stepped back, tweaking her wing gently. "Why don't the two of you keep playing? I am going to go sit with your sire."

She nodded easily and brightened just as quickly before leaping at her brother and tackling him.

Prowl relaxed and chuckled, watching the pair even as he gave Crossbeam his attention.

"Thank you." Crossbeam said quietly as he settled beside the Praxian, watching the sparklings play in the garden.

"For anything in particular, or in general for Jazz?" Prowl asked, his voice equally quiet.

"For Jazz, but for allowing him to come back. For bringing them." His optics flickered to Prowl and then back to the sparklings. "It was not something I had hoped, that my creation would ever return to my House and be happy. That he has found happiness in this functioning is because of you."

"My sire has three loving relationships, though two were political bondings he barely knew before the contracts were signed. I learned a great deal from him, and them," Prowl smiled softly. "Early on, Jazz asked what I wanted. I told him what was expected of him, and what I hoped for; a mate who was with me because he wanted to be by my side. Jazz chose to put the effort into building what we have, a choice I am grateful for each orn."

"You gave him what he was looking for, what he needed." Crossbeam answered. "I see that now."

A squeal interrupted the conversation for a moment, both mechs focusing on the sparklings in an instant, only to see that Bladesinger had been momentarily pinned by her brother and was clearly unhappy about the fact. A second later she was free and the game was on once more.

Crossbeam smiled in amusement as the chase led up a sturdy tree this time. "Am I to expect more grand creations in the future?"

"Many," Prowl purred at the thought. "Not entirely because it is expected of me. I offered that to Jazz as well. Once he produced a healthy sparkling for me to call an heir, I would not demand another from him. I will have other bonded mates that could be used for that. It turned out that once he could feel her, he became quiet enamored with being a carrier. He has recently increased the number he would like to have to eight or so."

"He is very much like his carrier." Crossbeam admitted, a sadness settling over the older mech. "It will be up to you to watch him. He will not stop himself, I am afraid."

A flicker of tension ran through Prowl. "Carrying weakened her spark?"

"Her spark was not strong to begin with." Crossbeam countered, tilting his helm to look at Prowl. "I was one of the younger creations of the House, and a simple warrior with little political value. Ours was a love match from the beginning. We were warned after Cadence separated that it would be unwise for her to carry again. After I became a lord of my own house ... she insisted on carrying another."

There was a long silence before Crossbeam added. "It is the only argument we ever had that I regret losing with her."

"I will be careful," Prowl promised. "Jazz's spark is very strong and our medic is a fine one. I do not intend to lose him foolishly."

Crossbeam nodded before changing the subject. "I believe he would follow you anywhere, now. You intend to allow to accompany you on the battlefield?"

"Once he has completed the training he needs to be there," Prowl nodded. "He is a fine warrior in the making, and a fine officer when he believes in himself."

"A process which you have already set into motion." Crossbeam actually smiled a bit. "It has not escaped my notice that my Second Bonded watches herself very carefully around him now, and avoids him when she can."

Prowl chuckled lightly. "I believe it finally sank in that her manipulations to be rid of him has granted him rank well in excess of hers, and that he no longer fears her. It was a pleasure for me to witness his growth as a mech and a warrior in that confrontation."

"I can only imagine." Red visor went dim for a moment as he just listened. "You will all be missed when you return home."

"You will always be welcome as my guest, Crossbeam," Prowl extended an offer he had not before. "Jazz cares deeply for you and our creations like you. It would make them all very happy to see you when you can visit."

"I thank you." Crossbeam replied, his field revealing a hint of relief at the fact that Prowl had no desire to separate him from any of his family. "And know my House will always be a place of refuge for you and yours in times of need."

"As my sword will defend yours should you and yours seek refuge in mine," Prowl said the formal exchange even as he meant it.

Crossbeam settled, nodding in acceptance, field going thoughtful again. "You mentioned other bondeds. Are you seeking one already?"

"No," Prowl shook his helm. "I do not expect I will seek a second any more than I sought a first. Alliance bonds have always been a part of the Lord's duties for the Shinning Sun. Vos will seek one eventually, as will at least one of the other primary Praxian Houses. Iacon, Crystal City and Altihex often do as well. Often they come as part of the peace treaty with a defeated House. My sire was somewhat unusual in only having three."

"I wish you the same peace that he seems to have found." Crossbeam answered after a moment.

"Thank you," Prowl said, his field expressing just how much he wished for the same. "I hope the first negotiation will not be until these two are grown, at least," he admitted softly. "Jazz has come far, but he still needs time to settle into his role and his rights."

"He will." Calm confidence filled the response as Crossbeam settled to watch Thunderstorm and Bladesinger play, content with the peaceful scene and the presence of his grandcreations for the time they were there.


	17. Milestones

Though he appeared calm on the outside, internally Jazz was a mess. This was a good orn, a happy and exciting one. Bladesinger had reached the age where she was old enough for her first flight, her systems finally developed and upgraded to the point that they were capable of taking her into the air as her spark demanded. She was a creation of the wind and sky, from her spark to her frame.

It still made it no easier on the mech who had carried her. In this she would be beyond his ability to help if something went wrong, and even the knowledge that Coda and practically every other flight capable mecha of the House would be in air with her did little to ease his personal anxiety.

~She will be fine,~ Prowl squeezed his mate's hand while his other hand was on still-sparkling Thunderstorm to prevent his whines from becoming an effort to launch himself into the air to join his sibling as his spark demanded. ~We have not lost a youngling to a crash in generations.~

Despite his words, the bond could not conceal that Prowl was just as stressed as Jazz.

Prowl turned and bowed slightly as Bladedrift made a dignified, if slow and painful, approach to the creators on the primary observation platform of the central building of the complex, directly over the Great Hall.

~I've got him, love.~ Jazz murmured over the bond, drawing Thunderstorm close so that Prowl could go to his sire if he wished. ~And I know. I just feel so helpless at the idea that she is going to be up there.~

Prowl nodded with a flicker of thanks before walking to Bladedrift and offering his wing in a show of respect and submission that also permitted the ailing mech to use him as a support without losing face before the gathering.

"You'll get to show off soon enough, strongspark." Jazz commented, soothing a subtle hand over his second creation's thickening armor in an attempt to distract Thunderstorm as Prowl helped Bladedrift to his seat. Spark Crest and Metronome took their places, one on each side. Coda would have been there, but he was to be Bladesinger's stand-in creator for her first flight and was with her as she received the final clearance from Keepsafe.

The Seeker-kin sparkling made a displeased sound mingled with the distress of not being able to fly, but settled his wings briefly.

He didn't resist as Jazz guided him in the direction of the others gathered on the roof. "And when she is done we can celebrate." Jazz added, reminding him of the small party planned. Wing struts almost fully covered in wing-armor perked up at that, knowing that a party meant the best treats.

With the immediate family settled, it wasn't long before Coda appeared from inside, the same path the grounders had taken, with a nearly vibrating Bladesinger at his side. She had been polished, painted and primped for the most important event in her young existence; her first flight.

Coda bowed to Bladedrift, then stepped up to Prowl and slid his wings down in a display of submission and devotion. "You honor this Seeker in allowing him to show your creation the gift she was created for."

Prowl inclined his helm and wings in acceptance and respect. "The Seeker honors this House by teaching my creation to master the sky that is her domain."

With the formal exchanges out of the way, Coda led Bladesinger to the edge and looked out at all the sky-kin. With a flare of his wings, every one of them took off to fill the sky, providing a living safety net. Though both House and Seeker law demanded that any youngling who failed to fly be allowed to plummet to their death, it had been generations since even the House of the Shinning Sun had enforced it.

It was small comfort to Jazz as he watched Bladesinger spread her wings, twitching and stretching them as her turbines fired. Beside her Coda did the same thing, the motions much more familiar and controlled to the elder Seeker.

And then with a surge they took to the sky.

Jazz watched his creation, shaky as she sacrificed finesse for the power that she needed to remain in the sky. And remain in the sky she did, rising higher in the air as joy sang over the bond she shared with her creators.

Joy, pure and complete, radiated from the youngling as she took her place where she belonged.

Prowl's hand closed tightly around Jazz's, his field and the bond singing brightly with a joy that could only be described as relief. Twined in it, here and there, were ancient memories of past Lords of the House that were part of him to help him excel in his function. Yet they were terrifying memories, a burden Prowl carried, not just of watching younglings plummet to their death, but of ordering, and even committing, the executions of the few that hadn't extinguished on their own.

A shudder ran through Jazz, just contained before it transferred to the sparkling still wrapped in his other arm.

He squeezed Prowl's hand firmly. ~Don't love. She flies, well and strong. Look at her. She does. They all will.~

~Yes, she does, they will,~ Prowl focused on suppressing the memories that were not his before giving himself over to the joy of watching his first creation take command of the air, becoming more confident with each klik that she spent in the sky, dancing and twisting with joy as her creators watched from below, glowing with pride.

Around her other fliers swarmed, dancing around her and sharing in the joy of having another among their numbers.

Prowl and Jazz watched from below as Coda finally moved in, herding the young aerial back to the rooftop and her waiting family before she overtaxed her still limited resources. Jazz had to hide a smile at the disappointment from their creation as she touched down again.

Disappointment that couldn't dim the glow of excitement that was still spilling from her as Jazz reached out to embrace her. "Congratulations brightspark."

"You did very well," Prowl added with all the warmth of the truth and his intense pride.

Bladesinger chirped and quivered with excitement at flying and at having her creators so pleased with her.

Jazz had to laugh, hugging her once more before stepping back to stand by Prowl. "Ready to celebrate?"


	18. A New Beginning

Prowl felt oddly light as he left the Lord's chambers. His sire was gone, returned to Primus, along with his carrier and Coda. Metronome was in the arms of her future bonded under the care of Keepsafe, grieving and in shock at the snapping of her spark bond. The priests were tending to the frames, preparing for the funeral, and for now Prowl was not expected to do anything other than _not be seen_. A convention so old no one knew why it had been put in place.

He stepped inside the entry room of the quarters he had occupied since a young mechling, quarters that he would be moved out of during the ceremony to come. One orn they would belong to his successor, though it would not be soon. Even though he had designated Thunderstorm, at only fifty-four vorns the youngling was a long way from being a mechling, much less confirmed as the next Lord of the Shining Sun.

~Love?~ The question came with a testing nudge across the bond as Jazz approached, feeling out his mate and already offering love and support.

~It is over,~ Prowl murmured, offering Jazz an open bond and open arms, welcoming his mate as he always did. He was more subdued, but the grief was only a dim murmur of loss and change.

~Then we can move on.~ Jazz said, kissing mate gently before guiding Prowl deeper into the quarters that were still theirs for the time being.

~Yes, and he is no longer in pain and tortured by a broken frame,~ Prowl was honestly and deeply relieved. Despite his clear processors, his frame felt tired with the new weight on him.

Jazz guided his mate into a large chair, settling Prowl before working his way against his mate's side, asking silently to share the quiet grief but also to take as much of the new burden weighing on Prowl as his mate would allow.

~He can rest now in the grace of Primus.~ Jazz agreed, hands stroking over his mate's plating to comfort and relax. It had grown harder as the vorns had worn on, watching Bladedrift struggle as his spark grew weak and his frame begin to fail him. To see the frustration in the elder lord's optics when he could not do something as simple as lift his newest grandspark into his arms or walk through the halls of the House to witness Thunderstorm's first flight without obvious aid.

~Yes,~ Prowl leaned into the comfort, trusting Jazz as he trusted very few to support him when he needed comfort.

~And rest peacefully, knowing that the House is in good care.~ Jazz added, love and support for his mate strong in their bond. Whatever trials might come now that Prowl was Lord in name as well as duty, Jazz intended to be there by his mate's side.

A wordless warmth came across the bond from Prowl as he tilted his helm to kiss Jazz's forehelm. ~He lived long enough to see his efforts produce a strong bond for his heir. I have little doubt he was holding on to witness Thunderstorm's first flight. It is selfish of me, but I will pray to Primus that my end will be a swift one in battle.~

Jazz's spark constricted briefly, the loss of his bonded something that he did not even want to contemplate, even if he did acknowledge the truth that all returned to Primus eventually. He held Prowl tighter, silent until a small sound announced the presence of another, and both looked to see Bladesinger almost hiding across the far room.

Knowing that that she had been seen the youngling met her creator's optics. "Grandsire is gone?"

"Yes, Bladesinger, Thunderstorm. Grandsire is gone," Prowl leaned and opened his arm, offering both younglings a spot with their creators. "He is no longer crippled."

A soft sound of sorrow escaped Bladesinger as she fell into her creators' arms, sadness flowing from the youngling's spark. Deactivation was not a new concept to the young spark, but this was the first loss of someone known and loved who would be deeply missed.

"Shuu, shuu." Jazz made a gently, comforting sound as he wrapped his frame around the younglings and his mate. There was nothing that could make the pain go away, but experience taught that sharing made it easier to bear. 

Across the web of bonds that connected the four, Prowl's spark was a calm, steady pulse. It grieved, but quietly, the loss long ago accepted and processed. This orn, the final end, was as much relief for him for an upbringing that had taught him that the weak and unrepairable should not be suffered to live. Laws said that Bladedrift should have long ago taken his own spark and returned to Primus. Yet no one had whispered against his continued existence, even if they all knew it flew in the face of their core values and what had made the House so strong.

"Primus made him whole once more," Thunderstorm said quietly, accepting the comfort of his family.

"Yes, as he does all eventually." Jazz agreed, rubbing gently at Thunderstorm's plating as the worst of Bladesinger's tremblings began to calm, comforted between the frames and sparks of her creators.

Already Jazz could feel the acceptance starting to sink in, and it relieved him. The next few orns would be trying, until the fact that Bladedrift was gone became a part of their existence and not a shock each time they remembered this fact.

Against him he could feel Bladesinger shift, somehow worming her way deeper between his frame and Prowl's, seeking and offering comfort through contact.

As always her brother was more reserved, quieter, thinking before he acted. Yet he too was pressed close, his wings quivering. "Coda is too? And grandcarrier?"

"Yes," Prowl whispered, stroking both younglings.

Another soft whimper escaped Bladesinger, prompting Jazz to wrap his arms around her and draw her close to his spark, even though her youngling frame made the action rather awkward. "They too are with Primus and at peace now." He nuzzled her helm gently. "Just focus on that."

* * *

"Do I have to call them creator?" Flashdrive asked his caretaker, a sleek young Seeker-kin slave of simple white with only the faintest hints of golden highlights on her helm and wings. She would be his property when he was upgraded to a full mechling, but for now she belonged to the House since the passing of her former owner.

"Yes, you should," Eryu said softly but firmly. "That is their role now. Though you may also ask them what they wish you to call them."

The youngling Seeker twitched his blue and red wings, their center stripe of white blurring slightly at the speed of the movement. It was a neutral expression, a mixture of distress and acceptance.

"They are your family." She added gently as she herded him in the direction of the new lord's quarters. His personal things would be moved when Prowl and his family moved into the Lord of the House's suite, but it was important to get the youngling integrated with his new family and the support he needed immediately.

"My brother," he nodded, his wings once again giving him away, but this flick was more of being at a loss to wrap his processors around having his new creator being a grounder, and one of the younger siblings. "It's just ... weird. I always figured that Kestrel would raise me."

"Lord Prowl and his First Bonded will look after you well." She encouraged, stopping at the door and pinging for permission to enter. "And you will have their creations to fly and play with."

"That will be nice," he managed a smile. "I like Thunderstorm."

The door opened to Steelplate's polite smile. "Welcome, Flashdrive. Everyone is here."

The sparkling nodded and shifted his wings, trying to hide his nervousness as he followed the free servant into the common room of the Lord Heir's suite.

Bladesinger and Thunderstorm looked up instantly from what they had been doing as he entered the room, the femme's wings twitching in barely contained curiosity and excitement. Attention was also instantly focused on the youngling and his caretaker by the other two adults present.

"Welcome, Flashdrive," Prowl stood to greet his new eldest creation. He added the small glyph for 'my creation' to the youngling's designation as a sign of welcome and acceptance of Flashdrive's status.

Behind him Jazz also rose, watching the youngling carefully and judging his reaction from behind the screen that his visor offered.

Young wings quivered, stressed, as Prowl knelt in front of him. "Thank you ... creator."

Prowl's wings canted in acceptance. "That will only be required of you in public, where appearances matter to those outside our House."

Flashdrive looked relieved. "I understand, Prowl."

"In private we are family," Jazz said as he came up behind Prowl, expanding on what Prowl had said, reaching out slowly so that Flashdrive would have plenty of time to move away if he did not wish to be touched. Instead the youngling leaned into the touch and gentle field. Jazz was not close to him, but his field was comforting.

After wavering for a moment, Flashdrive pressed into Jazz's embrace, trembling against his chestplate as he tried to hold back the sobs at losing his creators and the family he knew.

Warm arms wrapped around the youngling, pulling him gently deeper into the comforting field as Jazz murmured soft comforts, rocking the Seekerling in his arms and stroking his back just as he had Bladesinger and Thunderstorm when they were distressed.

"You are not alone." He promised, glancing at Prowl and then nodded to their other creations that it was safe to come closer.

Thunderstorm came forward first. His field was uncertain about how to help but welcoming to his half-brother. Jazz's field reached out farther, to brush against his youngest creation so that Thunderstorm could feel and remember the comfort that just having someone who cared close could bring.

Bladesinger caught on slightly faster as she came up, stepping around to the other side of the group so that her own shy field touched Flashdrive's, welcoming the young flyer that had been her playmate since before she had first been allowed out in public.

He smiled and flicked a wing at her before reaching out to catch Thunderstorm's arm. "Show me my berth?" he asked politely.

"Yes." Thunderstorm agreed. "With me, until we move. Creator says we can help choose how our rooms are set up." With that all three younglings set off, Steelplate drifting along behind simply to keep a watchful optic on them.

"Lord Jazz, if I may have a word with you," Eryu spoke just loud enough for him to hear, noting that Prowl had made himself scarce.

"Yes." Jazz said, stepping closer and waving her towards one of the smaller rooms off of the main living room. "I assume it is about Flashdrive?" He asked as the door closed behind them.

"Yes, Lord Jazz," she shifted uneasily. "Lord Prowl knows. Flashdrive was an unintended kindling," she said softly. "Very nearly extinguished in the first decaorn because of Lord Bladedrift's health." Her optics dropped. "Lord Bladedrift did not want a sparkling of his to grow up without him."

"It's not easy, losing a creator so young." Jazz commented, understanding deeply and also deeply aware of how much the late Lord had cared for his creations.

"It is not, Lord Jazz," she agreed. "Neither is it to know that your sire argued to have you extinguished. He was not supposed to know, but Flashdrive _knows_."

That froze Jazz for a moment, and he vented roughly as he worked through that and fought down the urge to throttle whoever had let the youngling find out. That was a burden no one should have to live with. "How long has he known?"

"I learned he knew after his first sparkling upgrade," she flinched away slightly from his anger. "I suspect he worked it out from what Lord Coda felt before he separated."

Jazz's visor when dark as his attention turned inward, reining in his emotions so that he could think and reaching out to his bonded. ~You knew that your Sire wished Flashdrive terminated?~

~Of course,~ Prowl responded with a hint of confusion at the question. ~You know how ill he was when Flashdrive was kindled.~

~Did you know that Flashdrive knows this?~ Jazz asked.

Prowl froze briefly. ~That I was not aware of.~

~Eryu just informed me of this.~ Jazz sighed softly. ~We are going to have watch him more carefully, I think. It is hard to lose a creator. It is harder still to know that you are not, or were not, wanted.~

~Agreed,~ Prowl responded, his processors already turning the problem over.

"What else should I know?" Jazz demanded, his field and voice calm as he addressed the femme once more.

She tried not to flinch. "Flashdrive is extremely smart. Possibly as brilliant as your bonded, though in a different way. He is fixated on collecting data. His current obsession is frametypes and alt modes. A perfect memory. According to Lord Coda, the only influence anyone except his carrier had on him was the night he was kindled. Spark and frame, he is almost pure Seeker. It will show in him even more than it will in Thunderstorm."

"Then he will be treated as such." Jazz responded, accepting this fact as simply another aspect of the youngling that he was already beginning to consider his own.

* * *

The Barasi of Praxus studied the mech kneeling before her. His wings and helm were bowed in submission before her, acknowledgment of her status as an agent of their deity and her authority to act in his name.

The young mech had already passed the trials set before him, the cleansing and fasting, and the three orns of solitary meditation in the chamber of Primus's light. All that was left was the formal, ritual acknowledgement and blessing that would make him the Lord of his House.

Straightening her frame to its full height, white optics flickered and went bright as she began. "Long ago Primus created our world, and with it the original thirteen mecha from his spark and flesh. It was they who instituted the order of the Houses, that same order which we still honor to this orn. But the House of Shining Sun, second of the Houses of Praxus, stands now without a Lord to lead it. Who would take this burden?"

"Prowl of the House of the Shining Sun would," Prowl spoke evenly.

"And by what right do you claim this burden?" She asked, the tone bordering on demand.

"The right of succession," Prowl responded. "I was carried by Spark Crest, First Bonded and First Chosen of Lord Bladedrift of the House of the Shining Sun, sired by Lord Bladedrift of the House of the Shining Sun. I was designated Lord Heir by Lord Bladedrift of the House of the Shining Sun before he took ill."

With a slight nod she turned to face the gathering of the House of the Shining Sun, the House Lords and various VIPs of Praxus and beyond. "Are there any who would challenge Lord Prowl's right to claim his heritage and assume the position of Lord of the House of the Shining Sun?"

Despite the formality that the question was at this stage, the House and many Lords were tense until the required full klik and a half of silence had elapsed and she turned back to Prowl.

"And do you swear before Primus to lead this House with all that you are? To guard it from danger and place its needs above your own? To guide and protect those under your care, knowing that they are the spark of the House and its future?"

"I so swear," Prowl answered, knowing it was true to his very spark.

She reached out and touched his helm gently, power rippling through her into the mech before her. "Than rise Prowl, Lord of the House of Shining Sun, and take your place among your peers before Primus. May you lead your House with wisdom, and may the grace of Primus shine on it."

Prowl managed to suppress the shudder as the power wove through his systems, then stood with all the natural and trained grace in his possession. He spread his wings to their full extent, displaying himself before the gathering.

"Primus bless, Lord Prowl." The Priestess added softly with a small smile before stepping back, signaling the end of the ceremony and leaving Prowl to make his way among those gathered.

Prowl's first glance was to his bonded, a mech who had been officially promoted to his First Chosen after Thunderstorm's first flight. In the front row as was Jazz's right, Prowl extended a hand as he stepped down from the platform, requesting his bonded join him. Jazz responded with all the grace and dignity required of the moment, rising smoothly from his seat and making his way to Prowl's side, hand joining with his mate's. "My Lord." Jazz said formally, even as joy and pride sang across the bond.

"My Chosen," Prowl said, formally acknowledging Jazz's status once more as he drew Jazz along to the meet and greet with their new status.


	19. Honoring the Shining Sun

At first glance this was like any of the dozens of major festivals Praxus held each century. Some were sponsored by the city, paid for by the Royal House or taxes. Others were sponsored by wealthy Houses or guilds. Most celebrated an important historical event to the sponsor, from the founding of the city to the founding of a House to the creation of the crystal garden that the city was known for.

This one was special for Prowl, however. It was the first time he sponsored the Honoring the Shining Sun festival and it had to go well. The honor of the House and his personal honor were both at stake. It would be a political disaster for both Prowl and the House if things went badly. Thus Prowl had devoted all his spare processor power, all his energy and effort into putting on a good show befitting the wealth and status of his House, but not so extravagant a one that it seemed he did not understand the value of the credits he spent. He had not ignored his other duties, mate or creations, but Jazz at least had recognized that Prowl was rarely fully focused on them.

Well after sunset Prowl felt his mate come up behind him. Jazz looked over his shoulder as Prowl worked, embroiled in all of the last klik details before the start of the festival the next orn, with the rising of the sun that that House drew its designation from. Gentle hands ran along the Praxian's wings, fingers kneading into the joints of wing and frame as they leaned back into him. Prowl groaned deeply in relief and pleasure as Jazz placed a soft kiss on his neck.

~It will go well love,~ Jazz assured him. ~We have planned for all that normally happens, the new display which you put up is complete, and everyone else is taking a deep intake and a moment's rest. You should as well.~

Slowly Prowl relaxed fully into Jazz's welcome touch as it worked tension he hadn't even noticed building. ~As long as you join me,~ he murmured, turning his helm for a kiss. ~We must both be up early for the final detailing. We must look as flawless as we did on our bonding orn.~

~There is nowhere else I would rather be.~ Jazz replied as he kissed his mate, gentle and loving, before slipping him a small cube of glowing energon that was accepted with a flicker of thanks. ~And if flawless is demanded of us, than flawless we shall be.~ He added, the words carrying the weight of a promise that his mate would be so if Jazz had to do the detailing himself.

~You are a darling,~ Prowl chuckled, amused and warmed by the sentiment as he sipped at his energon while they walked to their berth.

The endearment earned him a soft snort of amusement in return. "Say rather that I am concerned with my lord's health, as his Chosen should be." He turned his helm to nuzzle at Prowl from where he was tucked against the Praxian's side. ~And that I wish this to go well for the sake of my bonded, whom I love.~

~Between my tactical programming and your quick wit, I am certain we can cope with anything that comes up,~ Prowl purred, finishing his energon and sat on the berth.

Jazz turned the lights off and slid on to the berth, pushing at his mate gently until the Praxian gave in and laid down, allowing his bonded access to his wings and frame once more. ~Then it will be a festival remembered until the next one.~

When the strong black hands went to work on tense cables Prowl groaned onto a moan of pleasure and shifted plating to offer even more access. A soft hum of pleasure answered the moan, Jazz smiling as he felt his mate slowly begin to relax under his care.

~Dare I ask if you have ideas for making the next one more spectacular?~ Prowl asked with a distinct tone of amusement and approval for Jazz's ability to perceive options and ideas that were far beyond Prowl's particular brand of creativity.

~I would witness one before I dare make suggestions to improve it.~ Jazz answered easily, well aware of the amount of tradition that existed around a festival as old as the one that honored the founding of the House that now claimed him as its own. ~Ask me again when it is over and I will have a different answer for you.~

~I'm sure,~ Prowl's amusement flickered around the bond as his sensor wings trembled in relief at the attention being lavished on them. ~You know I will.~

~I do, love.~ Jazz leaned forward to kiss his mate. ~Rest now~

* * *

While it was not the annual highlight of the festival, there was another special occasion to be celebrated during this festival honoring the House of Shining Sun. Part of the festival was a display that consisted of a contribution from every Lord of the House dating back to the founder, and as its newest Lord Prowl was expected to add to it the first time he acted as host.

A sound rippled through the festival, attracting the attention of those gathered and directing it to a stage set in the middle of activities. A single mech stood in the middle of the stage, Stoneflash, an elder of the House of Shining Sun, a warrior who had seen millennia and battles that entitled him to this honor.

"Welcome all to the Festival of the Shining Sun. By tradition, Each Lord of the House adds to the history and glory of the House, and it is my honor to unveil Lord Prowl's contribution."

Following tradition, Prowl was watching, but discreetly at a distance. This was not for him, for all it was about him. What he would add had been the subject of speculation for vorns, ever since it became clear that he would sponsor the next festival.

Now it was time for all the rumors to be proven wrong. For that Prowl was grateful for his mate. This would not be nearly so artistic or elegant without Jazz's input.

With that the old mech stepped forward, tripping the button that removed the cover from the display, the newest in a long line.

As the cover fell away the display flared with energy as a holographic model of Cybertron springing to life from a simple but elegant base. As it turned various areas lit, lighting in colors that melded into one another. Each one, when touched, would offer and expanded display, covering campaigns that Prowl had led or the House had been involved in.

The state of Praxus glowed continuously, and selecting the proper point there would start a condensed version of the history of the House of Shining Sun and a slide show of images of the House over the millennium.

The crowd murmured in amazement. It was like nothing any expected in any way, and like nothing any previous Lord had added. It was less about Lord Prowl, though he featured notably, and far more about the glory of his House and Praxus.

Stoneflash then went on to explain about the data ports which allowed even more information to be accessed, as well as the ability to use it as a multi-mecha tactical game. More than a few creators recognized the educational value of the game.

~That was a brilliant idea, love,~ Prowl purred across the bond. ~As is the design.~

~Glad you approve.~ Jazz responded warmly, watching the crowd from beside his mate and relieved that the display was going over so well. 

He had been afraid when Prowl had asked for his help. This was a tradition of the House that was meant to be a reflection of those who led it and how they as individuals had influenced the Shining Sun. Jazz had looked over many of the previous contributions and concluded that while they displayed their own contributors well, none of them reflected the style or the mech that was _Prowl_.

And so he had proposed this with a two fold purpose. 

The first being a way for Prowl to continue the tradition while making it his own.

The second had been to provide the citizens of Praxus with another insight to the current Lord of the House of Shining Sun. While as a personal display there was little chance of any strong social or political ramifications, it would make and leave a lasting impression on those who viewed it, one where Prowl was remembered favorably, as the skillful and competent warrior-Lord he was. That it was educational and fun for anyone who enjoyed tactics or history, or just playing games, would make it remembered long after other facets were long forgotten.

* * *

While Prowl had watched this performance dozens of times with his sire and family from this very booth overlooking the grand stage, it would be the first time for all four mecha with him. It felt terribly empty right now; the booth was last used for his creator's entire family. Bladedrift, three bondeds and nearly a score of adult creations were with Prowl that time. Now it was only the five of them; two adults and three younglings separated by less than six vorns. While they all knew the fundamentals of the story, only Prowl had seen the full performance.

It was not so for the audience, most of who had watched the performance many times. While not mandatory, it was considered poor manners not to attend one performance of whatever the sponsor of the festival put on as their feature.

As the stage was blacked out in preparation for the performance, the comm system activated, offering a spoken rendition for those who wished to listen as well as watch. Primarily it was for those who did not know the language of the dance.

Beside him Jazz edged a little closer, field melding gently with his mate's and his attention shifting to the stage once he was sure that all three of the younglings were settled. Prowl made sure each was tapped into the comm signal, then nudged his mate over their bond.

~I didn't think you knew the language of the dance.~

There was a moment of processing, then a slight sheepishness as Jazz tapped into the comm line as well. ~I've learned a little since I came, but not near enough to follow along.~ He admitted.

Prowl chuckled quietly and leaned over to kiss his cheek. ~No shame in not knowing it well. Even among politicals it is not a common skill.~

The lights came up on the stage, highlighting a storm-colored Praxian frame with two sensor wing panels and the tattooed paintjob of a warrior from Vector Prime's era. The strong-looking warrior carried sword and shield and stood to the far side of the stage.

Opposite him was a lighter Praxian frame of silver and bronze and without the warrior tattoos. In his arms was a small golden form as he rushed to the warrior, his two panels high and excited.

::Near the beginning of Vector Prime's reign Praxus was founded by a royal clade from Vos who found they were drawn to ground frames for their trine mates. It was a city that attracted those of science, but even more it was a haven for artist of all kinds. While it boasted few warriors, a few clades had traditions in the martial arts.::

::Vagrant was one such warrior lived on the outskirts of the city, living off the land with his mate, an artisan of some renown. One orn Kalavida ran home from gathering supplies with a crying bundle in his arms.::

There was a slight shifting in the booth, distracting Jazz for a moment, but it was only Bladesinger shifting her wings to a more comfortable fold, already engrossed in the performance, and Jazz looked back to the stage as well. Now with a dozen mecha there, it took on a completely different appearance to most performances Jazz had seen. They were no longer acting out what might be a scene, but were dancing. Very slowly, in formation, every small twitch of frame, hand, arm, leg, wing and helm meaning something. Telling the story in a language that had never spread beyond Praxus, and was rare even here.

::They gave the newly separated sparkling the designation of Sunstorm and told both Praxus and Vos of finding him. When none admitted a claim, the warrior raised the Seeker as his own. A warrior, fierce and temperamental, who commanded the skies as a proper Seeker did.::

::When Vagrant was called on to suppress a rebellion against the Prime the mechling Sunstorm came with him. Against the enemies of the Prime Sunstorm proved his worth, defending the Prime and burning his enemies with a fierceness and dedication that impressed even the long-lived Prime.::

::During that battle Sunstorm claimed two prisoners as his personal slaves to help found the House he was granted for his service to the Prime. It would be only the second warrior House of Praxus and quickly rose to prominence as he took a bonded from the royal House and the third creation of the Prime himself.::

::He ruled the House wisely as a fierce, feared warrior for many vorns, siring many sparklings to found the House he designated the Shining Sun. When his eldest had an adult creation, Primus took Sunstorm from his bondeds and House. He flew into the sky and never came down.::

"Like Primus took Bladedrift?" Bladesinger whispered.

"No, Sunstorm was still young and strong. He simply disappeared, never to be seen again," Prowl answered.

"Why?" Bladesinger asked as the performance wrapped up, curious as to why Primus would take someone like that.

"No one knows," Prowl told her calmly. "No one knows what happened to him. It is a mystery of our past."

The youngling hummed, flicking her wings and stretching carefully so that she didn't strike either of her brothers.

~It is an interesting question love.~ Jazz commented offhand, not questioning the story as he moved to stand himself.

~Yes, and one that has frustrated the House from the orn it happened,~ Prowl agreed. ~All we know is that he did not extinguish, at least not soon.~

~More important that he founded the House and that it still stands today.~ Jazz said as he reached out, taking Prowl's hand. ~Planning to wander the festival more, or are we done for the orn?~

~I would like to retire for the orn,~ Prowl admitted, allowing his mate to know how straining this much socializing was on him.

~Then let us go thank the performers and head home.~ Jazz murmured, leaning into kiss his mate chastely and with a promise of shared relaxation once they were in private for the evening.

"Bladedsinger, Thunderstorm, Flashdrive- time to head home." He called, summoning all of their creations.

"Good. Hungry." Bladesinger bounced towards them, wings still flicking in excitement.


	20. Political Wars

Only after the door to their suite shut behind him did Jazz allow his frame to relax, pulling the cube of enriched energon from his subspace and sipping at it slowly. He could feel the moment it hit his tank, and sighed as the energy spread through his frame.

With all three of their creations doing well and well on their way to being on their own, when the idea had arisen of kindling another Jazz had held no reservations and been a willing and enthusiastic participant in the kindling. He had been looking forward to carrying again, to feeling the new life and personality of their newest creation next to his spark, and then to hold the new life in his arms.

It had been quite the surprise when Keepsafe had informed them that there were two sparks joined to his own, and that they were now expecting twins.

It also meant that Jazz was already far more tired than he had been at this stage when carrying Bladesinger.

~It will be worth all the difficulties,~ Prowl purred as he wrapped his arms around Jazz. ~I'll be here for you, as will Steelplate. Thunderstorm too. I think he has my carrier bent.~

Jazz leaned back against his mate, smiling at the warm comfort. ~It was worth it just for the reaction when you made the formal announcement to the House. And that is probably a good thing, seeing as how Bladesinger seems to have no interest in creations of her own.~

~She's very young, and intent on being a warrior,~ Prowl nuzzled him. ~I'm not surprised she's not thinking of sparklings yet. Flashdrive isn't either, though that is more a Seeker thing. He'll settle once he has his trine.~

~I certainly wasn't at her age. And Master Zariace already speaks well of her training.~ Jazz murmured, turning his helm to kiss his mate. ~Has Flashdrive expressed an interest in anyone?~

Jazz hadn't heard the mechling mention any such interest, but he had also been rather distracted lately, with much of the attention that had been focused on their elder creations shifting to the new ones already brushing his spark with feelings and personalities.

~No one that returns the interest,~ Prowl chuckled and nudged Jazz towards a soft, large couch in the living room. ~Nothing serious either, given how he took the rejection.~

~That's good. He has time, so long as the Seeker coding doesn't kick in full force.~ Jazz mused as he obediently moved in the direction of the couch, eager for a few quiet moments with his mate.

~As I understand it, it shouldn't cause him issues until he's been a full mech for at least six hundred vorns,~ Prowl purred, drawing his mate onto the couch to curl around each other. ~He has plenty of time, and like Thunderstorm, will be sent to Vos often to spend time with those who resonate the most with their trine coding.~

Energon finished and wrapped in the warm protection of his mate Jazz relaxed completely, content. A rub from his spark made him smile, and leaned into Prowl. ~Still think you're ready for two more?~ He teased.

~Always,~ he purred, relaxing as his mate did. ~We raised three high-strung fliers. We can handle two of anything.~

That comment had his mate laughing out loud, frame shaking from helm to toe in amusement. Getting control back Jazz turned to kiss Prowl. ~These two are going to be just as much of a handful I think, love.~

~Twins frequently are,~ Prowl smiled softly.

He snuggled back down against Prowl, considering their elder creations and remembering his own fears deep in his spark when he had carried Bladesinger. ~They have turned out well though, haven't they?~

~Very well,~ Prowl assured him. ~All three are fine young members of the House. Assets.~

Conversation gave way to contented cuddling, hands running lightly over frames as warmth and love drifted across the bond. Jazz had actually began to fall into a light recharge when an exasperated huff of annoyance dragged him back to the present and demanded both mechs' attention.

"Can't you two at least go to your room for that?" Bladesinger demanded, wings flared wide and golden optics bright with annoyance from where she stood in the doorway.

Prowl flicked a sensor wing at her in dismissal. "Hush it. He was almost in recharge."

The aerial's wings snapped in against her frame, posture shrinking into one of sincere apology at the reprimand. "Sorry carrier." She murmured, optics focused on Jazz and approaching as her creator held out a hand.

Jazz drew her down to nuzzle her helm gently. "No harm done." He assured her, smiling as the edge left her field where it touched his and sending a pulse of love and affection over the faded bond between them.

"And you are hardly one to tell us to hide our pleasure," Prowl said with a faint teasing tone. "Not after what you got up to three orns ago against that wall."

The indignant squawk had Jazz laughing again as Bladesinger stood up, wings quivering in embarrassment at having been caught out. ~I wouldn't be opposed to a nap, and it would be more comfortable on our berth, if you have the time to join me.~ He added to Prowl.

~I do, for a few breems,~ Prowl nuzzled him. "Help you carrier stand," he looked at Bladesinger.

The femme held out her hands, obediently helping her carrier to his pedes and accepting the hug he offered warmly, helm tilting to the side as she stepped back to look him over. While there was no ambition to have creations of her own any time soon, Bladesinger had been thoroughly delighted at the news that her carrier was expecting again, and just as excited as everyone else when it had been discovered that he was carrying twins for the House and that they were strong.

"You are well?" She asked, concerned.

"Tired." Jazz answered with a smile, "Just as I was with you. It is normal."

"You and your brothers have done well to keep him from over exerting and taking his energon while I have been busy," Prowl added, offering praise for the behavior he really did appreciate.

~You make it sound like I can't take care of myself.~ Jazz mock pouted across the bond to his mate, even as he smiled at the way Bladesinger glowed at her sire's praise.

~Worth it to see that,~ Prowl chuckled across the bond as Jazz was guided to the master berthroom and the plush berth there.

~Agreed.~ His mate murmured as they settled on the berth, Jazz back in Prowl's arms and already relaxing towards the recharge his systems were hinting they would like.

* * *

Jazz was initially roused by Prowl's movement as the Praxian got up to return to his duties and quickly drifted back to recharge after a parting kiss. Later he was roused by a sharp, quickly suppressed burst of _dread-anger-frustration_ across the bond.

Concerned, Jazz rose from the berth, all thoughts of recharge gone as concern gave him strength and energy. He felt along the bond carefully, testing it before daring to disturb his mate. ~Prowl?~

~I am fine,~ came the tense reply. ~I will explain when I know in full.~

Jazz paused where he stood in the middle of the main living room of their suite, considering. ~Can I help?~ He asked softly.

~Not yet,~ Prowl said reluctantly. ~Sit. I will brief you soon.~

Still very uneasy, Jazz found another cube of energon and settled himself back on the couch they had abandoned earlier to wait for his mate's return, and an explanation. Against his spark both newsparks nuzzled him, affectionate and concerned by his distress.

"Shuuu." Jazz whispered, trying to calm himself so that he did not distress the newsparks more, sending love and assurance back over the steadily strengthening bond. "It will be all right."

The pair echoed the love back and all three settled to wait, Jazz singing softly to himself and the newsparks until the door slid open and Prowl stepped inside. One glance and Jazz knew this was bigger than he had thought. His mate's entire frame was tense, his sensor wings flared high and stiff. Every line of him screamed of readiness tonight.

"Prowl?" Jazz was up in an instant, crossing the room to his mate and stopping just out of reach.

"We have been attacked," Prowl said simply, a world of implications in those few words as he reached to embrace his mate. "One of our holdings in Kaon. I will be leading the rapid response force. The running of the House will fall to you while I am gone."

"Of course." Jazz agreed before he had even finished processing what was said. Frame leaning into Prowl's, the rest of the implications sunk in. "You are leaving."

"Yes," Prowl murmured, holding him close. "We will roll out within the joor. Bladesinger will come with me. Thunderstorm and Flashdrive will remain here to assist you."

In his arms Jazz's frame began to tremble, emotion swirling across the bond. He wanted, _needed_ his mate close now. Needed the love and support, needed the safety and security that was having Prowl close.

And the House demanded the service of its Lord and his Chosen, regardless of personal issues. Anger filled Jazz, fueled by the sudden feeling of helplessness.

~Sh, sh,~ Prowl whispered. ~I will always be close, even if not in frame.~

"Make this fast." Jazz pleaded, ~Come back, and bring our creation with you. The House will be waiting.~

"I will be back as soon as I can," Prowl promised with a kiss to Jazz's forehelm. "With our creation in tow. Take care of yourself and our twins. Do not hesitate to lean on the siblings I trust for guidance and support. The House at war is a very different entity than in peace."

Jazz vented roughly, holding Prowl tightly and soaking in the love and support radiating from his mate for another moment before stepping back. "I hear and obey, my lord."

~I love you, and I _trust_ you with caring for my House while I am gone,~ Prowl said silently, offering Jazz the greatest complement he knew how; entrusting him with what he held more dear than his own spark.

With a quiver of hesitation, Prowl stepped forward to kiss Jazz with a fierce passion that left no doubt to his desires. Then he was gone.

Focusing on each intake and ex-vent, Jazz first focused on centering himself, then on calming the once again agitated newsparks with assurances of love and joy at their presence. Finally presentable, he onlined his visor and keyed the door. If his mate was departing within the joor, there was much to be seen to before he left, and even more to ready the House for war.

His first task was to track down his creations that would be remaining, then Kriemahni. Prowl's older sibling that had bonded to Metronome after their creator's deactivation was the one he trusted the most, and particularly well suited to this situation. Unlike Jazz, who only had the formal files of what was to happen, Kriemahni had been through it many times on both sides of the active warrior line. As Prowl's most trusted sibling, and a respected warrior, Kriemahni had often been asked to oversee the reserve forces and ensure that reinforcements were there should Prowl need them, but also to hold the House and its Praxian holdings against attack.

With that task now formally falling to Jazz by Prowl's decree, Jazz knew that he would need all the help he could get, nor was he above seeking it.

::Thunderstorm, Flashdrive.:: He attempted a comm first, not having the time or the energy to spend running all over the compound actually looking for his creations.

::Yes, creator?:: Thunderstorm responded first, his voice already deep and level, much like his carrier's.

::How may we help, creator?:: Flashdrive responded shortly afterward, though there was an edge to his voice that suggested that he was not completely present yet.

::Join me as soon as you can. Main courtyard of the compound. I am looking for your uncle Kriemahni as well. Your creator and your sister depart within the joor.:: Jazz responded, falling into the clipped tones of a mech focused on the task at hand.

::Yes, creator,:: Flashdrive responded. ::Be there in a klik.::

::Kriemahni is directly below me,:: Thunderstorm responded. ::I will tell him. We will be there shortly.::

::Thank you.:: That settled, Jazz's attention turned to seeking out his mate and Bladesinger in the organized mass of movement that was well trained and drilled forces gathering to move out. She was the easiest to spot, her bright colors standing out among the generally more somber, or at least solid, colors of the other fliers. As he moved towards her it became clear that she was holding her position, likely above her commander.

Which made finding both of the mecha he was currently seeking much easier. Jazz slipped smoothly through the sea of frames to his mate's side, fascinated as he drew closer to see Prowl completely in his element. This was planning and directing a responsive population for war. Across the bond was a calm excitement and pleasure that Jazz had never felt from his mate before, but was fairly sure he recognized as what fulfilling your purpose felt like.

"Our creations are on their way, as is Kriemahni." Jazz informed Prowl as he joined the other mech, well aware of just many thought processes his mate could handle at once and not worried about disrupting him in the least.

Prowl gave him a small nod of acknowledgement. "You wish to say goodbye to Bladesinger?" he asked.

"Yes." There was no reason for Jazz to deny his intentions to his mate, with Prowl knowing how much Jazz cared for their creations.

Without a word she landed neatly, as delicately flawless as any flier they had. It was a far cry from her first landing all those vorns ago, and yet even then he had seen her inherent grace.

At the moment she was also vibrating in excitement for being chosen to go with her sire for the first military action in her functioning.

Jazz couldn't help but smile at her excitement, burying his own worry and concern at letting one of his creations go under the pride he felt in her. Reaching out he pulled her into a brief hug, not wishing to embarrass her too much in front of her peers. "Be safe, brightspark."

"We'll be back soon, carrier," she assured him, all but dancing in his arms, her pedes never completely settling on the ground. "We're prepared for them."

Jazz let her go to rise back into the air, watching as she gracefully resumed her position and began once more assisting her sire. Over the rumble of many engines, Jazz picked up the familiar sound of his other creations coming in for a landing.

Thunderstorm was the first to set down, his powerful frame and rumbling engines making a noticeable impact despite his efforts to be gentle on the ground. "What are your orders, First Chosen?"

"Pull the most recent inventory of the House supplies. Run it against the recommended wartime levels and see what we need." Jazz answered, all business again.

"Yes, First Chosen," he dipped his wings respectfully and lifted off to attend to his duty while Flashdrive looked at Jazz expectantly.

"We also need to know who all is currently residing in the compound, minus those forces leaving with your creator and sister. Go ahead and subdivide the list into warrior, combatant and infirm once you have a sparkcount." Jazz requested of his other creation.

"Yes, First Chosen," he also dipped his wings respectfully before launching into the air to attend to the database and then physically confirm those numbers and designations.

Satisfied, and trusting his creations to do as he asked quickly and competently, Jazz's attention shifted back to observing his mate for a moment, still marveling at the shift in Prowl. There was nothing that hinted he was such a loving mate and creator, nor his humor. The mech before him now was very clearly a General, dedicated to his function and troops.

It was, in a very real sense, the first time Jazz met _Prowl_ , the mech that was known across Cybertron as The Tactical General, and far less kind things.

Now all of the rumors he had heard made sense, everything that had made him dread and fear coming to the House of Shining Sun falling into focus. He hid a smile of pride and affection at the idea that he was one of the few mecha who knew the rest of Prowl, turning to greet Kriemahni as he sensed the other mech's approach.

Prowl's older brother transformed smoothly and inclined his sensor wings politely to Jazz. "How may I be of assistance?"

"I would ask for your help in transitioning the House to war time functioning." Jazz said, guessing that Kriemahni would be able to pick up on the layers of meaning in the request-order.

"Of course, First Chosen," he inclined his helm. "If I may walk with you to the planning room?"

Jazz tipped his helm in consent, already moving as he reached out to Prowl over the bond. ~Be careful love.~

~We will,~ Prowl promised, the words distracted as most of his focus was on mobilizing his ground forces and the fighting wings he was sending ahead.

The walk was relatively quiet, Jazz unwilling to say how little he knew in public and Kriemahni not asking him anything that might display ignorance. When the door closed behind them to Prowl's favorite official room, a place full of data and projectors, Kriemahni finally turned to Jazz.

"I know my carrier gave you the basics, but I still remember the chaos it felt like the first time I was left in charge of the House's holdings," Kriemahni said with a simple efficiency. "Prowl has long trusted me with the House. He has told me that he is entrusting me with your success on your first time running this place in war."

"Than I am sorry for the burden he has placed on you." Jazz answered, willing to relax somewhat in private and the presences of someone he knew that Prowl trusted deeply. "Flashdrive is in the process of taking a spark count, and Thunderstorm is looking over the storerooms and their inventory. That much I figured I could at least set into motion."

"It is my honor to be trusted so by our Lord," Kriemahni said easily, and spoke it as the truth. "It is a good start. I know that we are initially in good standing. The complex always stocks three metacycles worth of war-time supplies, which is a metacycle's worth under normal usage. Fortunately you are far enough along that the twins will separate before there is any potential for true rationing and the difficult choices of who to short and how much."

The other mech twitched slightly in agreement at that truth and offered a quick prayer to Primus that the entire ordeal would be over long before that was even a consideration. "Is there much else to do before Prowl leaves?"

"Not that soon," he shook his helm. "There is much that needs to be done in the next few orns, however. How familiar are you with the shift in meals and energon usage for wartime?"

"It is not something that I have ever had to experience, nor do I have much of an idea of what it means on a scale that will be implemented here." Jazz admitted.

Kriemahni nodded. "At this stage, the primary difference will be the end of the family meal as you know it. Everyone eats in the warrior's dinning hall and serves themselves, and except for supplements such as yours and whether it's grounder or airframe grade, everyone has the same energon. Meals are once an orn, taken in shifts of one hundred mecha. For now sparklings and younglings are permitted three simple treats an orn that are prepared on site, preferably by the one giving them the treat."

"Puts a stop to potential fussing and makes sure they get everything they need. Very reasonable. Are meal shifts assigned than?"

"The warriors have always had assigned meal shifts," Kriemahni smiled slightly. "That will continue, with politicals mixed in. Almost all shifts will change as the training schedule is implemented, making it simple to integrate politicals and warriors."

Jazz sighed softly, pulling a cube of energon from his subspace and stopping to study it for a moment before taking a sip. Something so simple that he had always taken for granted, cast in a new light. "Who is responsible for overseeing the training schedule?"

"That is my duty, as the ranking warrior," he said easily. "Though as always, your input as the ranking political would be most welcome. While most politicals have some combat training, very few dedicate the time that Prowl and you do to it." He sent a databurst to Jazz. "One of my duties in peacetime is to maintain a training schedule for wartime."

Jazz studied the schedule that had been supplied for a moment. "Than we can put it into action as soon as we have Flashdrive's sparkcount. I trust what you have put together."

He thought for a moment, silent as he considered everything that had happened, and what little experience he had. Finally he looked up at Kriemahni. "I know _how_ the House is supposed to operate during wartime, but what _exactly_ is expected of me?"

"To be blunt, you are expected to keep the politicals in line, ensure that they train and don't take extra energon or hoard it, keep track of our supplies and handle talking with other Houses and merchants," Kriemahni said. "Control the politicals and maintenance of what allows us to go to war. If this continues your duties become more unpleasant, though I do not foresee that happening in this conflict. Prowl will either crush the attacker with overwhelming force or abandon the holding to them."

"They will regret their actions. Prowl is not pleased." Jazz murmured, very in tune with his mate and very aware of how unhappy Prowl was on several levels. The fact that someone had dared to strike at a holding of the House of Shining Sun was insulting, and the timing could hardly have been worse.

"To put it very mildly," Kriemahni agreed. "Even if he abandons the holding, this will not be forgotten or forgiven."

Jazz nodded. "I will see to the politicals." There were a few that he could think of now that were not going to be happy with the changes, but that was hardly something that could be avoided. He was reasonably sure that he could keep them in line, even if some would require help from the allies he had.

* * *

By the time Prowl reached the boarder of the Tankon holding in Kaon everything was quiet. The aerial forces he'd sent ahead had arrived within two joors of the first call for help and routed the attackers with the assistance of those stationed in Tankon. Despite that, and the clear visuals of his aerials flying patrols in the two orns since their arrival, there was a palpable sense of relief in those who saw the triple column of heavily armored Praxian warriors as they made their way to the base at the center of the holding.

He took note of visible damage to the holding, signs of both combat and looting. By the time he transformed inside Tankon itself to greet Coldfire, the aerial commander he'd entrusted with the first response, Prowl had a good idea what had happened.

"The holding is secured. There is a damage evaluation underway." Coldfire started, the blue mech launching into his report without bothering with pleasantries. "We've identified the origin of attack. House Sharpblade, with mercenaries on their payroll to round out their forces. What they are after has still not been determined."

"Any loss of our mecha?" Prowl asked, focusing on the one part of the damage report that should already be known and the one that mattered to him the most.

"Minor injuries, mostly. Windsail took heavy laser fire to a wing and lost several stabilizers. The unit medic has grounded him until further notice." Coldfire responded quickly, naming an aerial scout that had been on the forefront of the force's approach. "The others will be combat ready within the orn, if need be."

"Good," Prowl felt a whisper of relief wind through his spark. "Anything else to report?"

"No sir. Hold Keeper Stoneblock is available to speak with you at your convenience." Coldfire informed him.

Prowl nodded. "I will speak with Stoneblock, then check on how the troops are settling. Report to me when you have a preliminary damage report."

"Sir." Coldfire's helm inclined slightly before he turned and lifted off, already comming those at work for updates.

A quick ping to the holding computer provided Stoneblock's location, and Prowl was pleased that the mech he had left in charge, that both he and his sire trusted, was on a clear patrol route of the walls. Smoothly folding into his alt, Prowl drove an intercept course for the holder.

He was also clearly aware of what was going inside his holding, even with otherwise occupied. The gray and tan mech was waiting as Prowl caught up to him, inspecting some laser scorching to the wall that encircled the compound.

"My lord." He greeted Prowl, helm nodding respectfully as Prowl transformed.

"Hold Keeper Stoneblock," Prowl greeted politely. "I understand that casualties were light and no fatalities."

"So far, my lord. Thank Primus." Red optics turned to scan the surrounding area. "There has been much unrest as of late, but none of it appeared directed here, specifically. House Sharpblade has a reputation of being...opportunist, though."

"How likely are they to attack again?" Prowl asked, focusing on the primary concern. 

"They are also stubborn, and at least half of the forces that came against us were known mercenary units. If they have gone through the trouble of hiring additional forces and set their sights on this holding, very likely." Stoneblock paused, inspecting another section of the wall and noting that it would need repairs.

"Then I will formally warn them that a second attack will face retaliation of the full House," Prowl said, well aware that his House could martial forces far beyond what House Sharpblade could, even with mercenaries. "I will need an accurate assessment of how many supplies will need to be brought in each decaorn to support the additional forces now here."

"Easily done, my lord." Stoneblock said, adding the section of wall the running repair list and moving on. "We generally reside under war conditions as standard operating procedure here. With a complete roster of the forces you have brought with you and any more in route it will be to you by the end of the orn."

Prowl databurst him the roster and the reserve roster. Though Prowl did not expect to need additional forces, they were ready if he did. "Are there any supplies that you are in critical need of?"

"No, my lord." Stoneblock replied, instantly passing on the information to the relevant individuals. "With all of the recent unrest we have been careful to maintain full stores, and the storerooms are well protected from outside attack. By my estimate we have enough to maintain the mecha stationed here and all those who came with you for a deacorn, and longer if we ration stringently."

"All the forces I brought have rations for three orns of fighting. By the end of the orn you called for assistance a decacornly resupply was in place. Barring sabotage, it should not become an issue. What can you tell me that is not in the regular reports?"

"There has been a great deal of local unrest, infighting among the Houses. Several minor Houses have merged with larger ones. And not all of the merges were...voluntary. We are the first outside holding that has been attacked. Province wide, there have been changes. Many of them quiet so the general populace is not entirely aware." Stoneblock tilted his helm. "Changes that a normal mecha wouldn't notice right away. Not as much energon available, the occasional energy blackout, some random sweeps of the lower levels, never enough to cause alarm."

Prowl hummed, putting that in place with many things he already knew, some of which Stoneblock wouldn't have access to. "We will see how this plays out. I have heard of the first signs of an organized rebellion forming in Kaon, possibly backed by the royal House, or at least a Noble House."

The Hold Keeper paused for a moment, optics flashing, before continuing with his inspection. "So that is the source of the unrest. My informants have never been able to pinpoint a possible center of origin, because of the way things shift and swirl here."

Prowl nodded. "It is little more than rumor, though for rumor to be taken seriously by the Prime there must be something substantial to it. The critical factor for us is whether House Sharpblade is part of the planned unrest, or if they are simply taking an opportunity to test my determination to hold Tankon. When do you refuel?"

"Two joor, my lord. This orn in a small mess with some of my staff. Will you join us?" Stoneblock inquired, offering the formal courtesy.

"Yes," Prowl said simply. "As will my Aerial Commander. I will see you then," he canted his wings politely and turned to begin his own customary tour, one he always preferred to do on his own.

* * *

Safe in the privacy of his own quarters, Jazz allowed his frame to sag. If Keepsafe had seen him the medic surely would have been on the verge of panic, scanning him for signs of trouble. What she would have found Jazz wasn't sure, since he wasn't entirely sure how much of it was in his processor, and how much of it was truly physical. He knew he needed to recharge. The orn had been long and exhausting, even more so with the rapidly growing sparks drawing on his, and the first hints of the protoforms beginning to assemble. But as he looked at the large berth he felt no welcome. Only dread.

Still, he _needed_ to recharge, so he forced himself to lie down. Yet despite his frame's needs, recharge would not come. Every time the protocols initiated, he found them turning off.

The berth was too large. The room was warm but Jazz was _cold_. He wrapped his arms around his frame, but it did little good. He could count on one hand the number of times that he had recharged an entire cycle alone since he and Prowl had bonded, and still have several digits left over.

He had managed it since Prowl's departure through sheer exhaustion. But things were starting to settle, in a way. Orns were starting to fall back into a routine, and with its coming Jazz was losing his ability to rest.

Rest he desperately needed.

"Jazz," Steelplate's deep voice was low, intended not to disturb even though he knew full well his charge was awake.

The smaller mech vented softly, not even trying to hide the fact that he was still conscious from the mech that knew him so well. "Steelplate." He murmured in acknowledgement, sitting up on the berth to face his old mentor and friend as Steelplate came into the room to sit on the berth.

"Are you ready to admit you need help recharging?" he asked gently.

Jazz cringed slightly, ashamed of his weakness even now, in the presence of a friend. "It shouldn't be this hard. But...I _miss_ him."

"It is good to miss your bonded," Steelplate smiled. "It means you love him."

"Very much so." That, at least, wasn't hard for Jazz to admit.

He scrubbed at his faceplates with a sigh. "Except now I am sure that I would only be disappointing him. _This_ isn't doing anyone any good. But the harder I try, the harder it is to recharge."

"I can give you something to help you recharge," the old mech offered. "In the long run, you may wish to take Kriemahni and Metronome up on their offer, or have the mechlings stay with you. Neither are your love, but the warmth does help. Your carrier missed your sire terribly when he was away."

"So I can recharge and avoid Keepsafe's wrath?" Jazz asked, seeking humor as best as he could, and well aware of the medic's dislike of him taking anything she didn't prescribe when he was carrying.

"Yes, that, and so you feel strong enough to lead this House and support the twins," Steelplate smiled. "You have more important things to do than avoid her wrath. Is it anything other than missing him?"

Jazz shook his helm, looking around the room that felt so empty without his mate. "The House is settling into wartime well, Kriemahni is excellent help. Soon enough he will be able to focus more on his duties, and less on making sure that I do not make a mistake, I hope."

"You are doing well," Steelplate assured him before offering a datstick. "I do not recommend it often, but it will help you recharge tonight."

Jazz took the datastick, contemplating it in silence as his free hand ran over his chest. "I will see if Thunderstorm or Flashdrive will stay with me, after tonight."

"I know Thunderstorm will," Steelplate smiled. "He'll never admit it, but he likes to snuggle. Early trine instincts, I believe. He wants to recharge in a pile of others. For tonight, I will stay until you are soundly in recharge. And know I will never be far."

"Thank you." Jazz answered, the smile he offered sincere as he plugged the datastick into a port and settled on the berth, field reaching out to brush against Steelplate's and taking comfort in the nearness of the other mech. He felt his mentor's field reach out to caress him, encouraging him to give into the recharge code and get the rest he needed.

* * *

It was subtle, and very well done. Rather like her performance the night before.

The small green femme had shown up at the front gates of the hold, clean and bright opticked, trilling softly and offering to perform for the troops the evening before. A singer, she had claimed and proven, willing to work for a place to recharge and some energon.

Allowed to stay for the orn and perform at least once more, she had spent the entire orn doing her best to catch Prowl's attention. Her interest was never blatant, she was never in his face or underfoot. But she was constantly at the corner of his vision when he was out and about, flirting and entertaining the other troops on the surface but always where he could see, the quick looks and the subtle shifts of her frame inviting and very much meant to be appealing.

It was a pattern that Prowl was long familiar with, both from his own experience and that of his elders. It was something he looked forward to, though he found as he absently calculated her value in his berth against supplies and the threat she may pose, this time he was not as eager as before. He wished for his mate, not merely a warm frame. Yet a warm frame was what he had available, so that he would accept.

He was relaxed in the simple but comfortable quarters he had been given in Tankon when she responded to his summons. Reclining on his berth, Prowl had his armor fluffed out, his wings spread in a sensually relaxed display and both his interface covers open, though his spike was still in its housing. On his berthside table was a cube of energon. While it was the grade he consumed on campaign, he knew well that even before she lost her job it would have been very good quality for her.

There was a polite ping at his door, the femme outside stepping in as it opened and stopping as it closed behind. Sharp optics swept the room in a sparkbeat before falling respectfully to the floor.

"You sent for me, my lord?"

"You have been seeking my attention all orn," he said simply. "You have it now."

Glowing amber optics rose to meet his. A slender green frame swayed as the femme approached the berth, the low light playing over the sleek form. "And what would my lord like in return for the gift of his attention?" She purred.

"Your attention to my frame," Prowl answered with a slight motion to his interface arrays.

"As my lord commands." Sliding on to the berth, field stretching out to brush against Prowl's with a willing, agreeable energy. A hand reached out, brushing lightly against the edge of one the Praxian sensor wings, still spread and on display. "So handsome." She murmured, amber optics glowing in true appreciation of the quality of the mech stretched before her on the berth.

Leaning up she nudged at his chin, submissive and inviting, before slender, skillful fingers started working their way down his frame. Firm, even touches traced transformation seams as talented fingers slipped into joints. There was a fraction of a nanoklik of hesitation as she reached the bared interface components, a single finger tracing a light figure eight around them before her helm lowered, glossa circling the bared valve with deep purr.

Prowl let out a soft sound of pleasure, his frame relaxed, spreading his legs further for her. His field was rich, warm and inviting with a steady undercurrent of arousal as her glossa slid through the thin sheen of lubricant he'd already produced. Strong hands continued to trace along his hips and thighs as her glossa spiraled inward, savoring each taste and response of the mech above her. When it reached the sensor rich edge of the valve it flickered for a moment, teasing, before delving inside.

He made an encouraging moan, his field reaching out to share the pleasure with the pleasure-giver as he relaxed fully on the berth. This wasn't the complete connection he shared with Jazz, but it felt good and an overload would do him good. The femme knew what she was doing too, as her glossa worked it's way into his valve, finding every node and sensitive spot and working it until the slightest touch would send a wave of pleasure through the large mech.

There was acceptance of the pleasure that Prowl offered back, and a sense of pride in response that this indeed felt _good_ to him.

Encouraged by the response, Songbird shifted her frame, tilting her helm to delve deeper into the quivering the valve. A rich, soft hum filled the room, the vibration making the very air vibrate as her lips pressed against the rim of the valve and the primed receptors surrounding it.

A deep, resonant moan came as his frame stiffened with each intense jolt of pleasure she sent into him. His valve calipers cycled, trying to capture her glossa and pull it deeper inside. When flicks of electricity began to dance along his frame his hands tightened into fists on the berth, gripping it in a futile effort to ground himself.

Fingers found their way deeper into the Praxian's hip joints, stroking the receptors buried there with gentle pressure. Her glossa delved obligingly as deep into his valve as it could, the green femme focused entirely on pleasing. The charge building in his frame jumped to hers where they were close, giving her zaps of pleasure.

His hips rolled up, pressing into her as he roared his release.

The humming died away slowly, in time with the release of Prowl's frame from the lock and grip of overload. A gentle glossa glided over the still highly responsive platelets, removing the last traces of the pleasure that had just been given and received.

Songbird's field rippled and caressed Prowl's, the femme shifting her attention to his spike housing as she felt his frame relax the rest of the way. "More, my lord?"

Prowl's spike slide from his housing as his engine rumbled with desire. After a moment to consider the options he shifted and reached for her, drawing her to lay on the berth under him.

Amber optics met his, the green frame responsive to his every direction as she settled back on the berth, submissive but willing. She willingly spread her legs for him to kneel between them. Her valve cover slid open, allowing him to slide his spike along the platelets in a leisurely, teasing slide.

A purr emitted from her frame once more, optics lighting in a way that suggested that this was welcome and even more willingly offered. "All yours, my lord." Shifting her frame invitingly as one hand stroked down his chest.

With a grin he grabbed her wrists and pinned them to either side of her helm, then rolled his hips again to stimulate the platelets and rim sensor nodes. A flicker of tension ran through the small green frame as her hands hit the berth. Tension that was gone with the next brush of his spike against her, answered with a deep moan of desire that traveled through the very air.

"Good," Prowl rumbled with another roll of his hips. "You enjoy being dominated, don't you?"

"Yes my lord. Please." She begged softly, frame arching up in an attempt to meet the teasing roll of his hips. Eagerness quivered through her field where it touched Prowl, sincere and desiring, and under it the edge of something else.

His mouth found her throat, nipping and licking as he continued to slide his spike along the entrance to her valve until he judged her slick enough to enjoy being taken. With a smooth roll of his hips he drew back to line his spike up, then pressed forward to slowly stretch her valve around his thick spike.

Small whimpers and moans escaped her, soft sounds of true enjoyment as her helm fell back on the berth, offering more of her throat. The tight valve rippled around Prowl's spike, and there was no mistaking the shudders that ran through her entire frame each time he reached a new sensor node for anything but pleasure.

As always Prowl fed off that pleasure, welcoming its enhancement of his own as he set a strong pace. Each thrusting roll of his hips was smooth and deep. His sensor wings flared widely over them, the fingers separating as his pleasure built.

Across touching fields came feel of the steady build-up in the green femme beneath him, optics dimming as energy was diverted to other places. The hum of pleasure started again, but this time as an unconscious response instead of a calculated enticement.

Energy began to dance and jump between their frames, most noticeably within her valve where the highly conductive lubricant encouraged it.

Prowl moaned deeply, his mouth still against her throat as he picked the pace up and thrust harder.

Moans and whimpers gave way to louder cries of pleasure as her valve cycled down on the invading spike and her frame arched up to rub against his. Tickling teases of energy ran over and between them as her fingers tightened in Prowl's hold where he held them to the berth.

A shudder and hard thrust later and Prowl growled into roar fueled by the crackling explosion of sensations through his entire frame. Thick, heavily charged transfluid erupted into her valve to strike hypersensitive nodes with sensation and energy combined.

As though his roar was permission the green femme overloaded a sparkbeat later, driven onward by the release of the mech dominating her so thoroughly and wonderfully. The small frame bucked against him before locking up as the surge of energy overrode all motor control and the first sound of bliss died as her vocalizer cut out.

His armor fully open to vent the heat of his frame, Prowl moaned as he regained some control of his frame. Yes, he'd needed that. He could already feel his processors functioning more efficiently as the frustration of the situation was soothed by his overload. But at the moment he only wanted more. With a nuzzle to her throat he began to thrust once more with slow, smooth long strokes.

* * *

Jazz set aside the datapad he had been looking over, satisfied with the report. The supplies were still holding well, and so far no one had protested too much. Schedules had been set and the entire House has settled into wartime functioning.

With a sigh he paused, checking his energy levels and noting that he was going to have to fuel soon. Slowly he ran a hand over his midsection, feeling the shift in his plating and reaching out to touch the newsparks. They were quiet, resting, so he let them be with the lightest of checks. If Bladesinger's carry was anything to go on they would be migrating soon.

He was reaching for the next datapad when irritation flared across the bond with his mate, startling him. Frustration like this was _not_ a normal reaction for Prowl, and Jazz instantly reached out with _question-concern-ok_?

An instant apology flickered back and the bond carefully slid open. ~House Sharpblade is being _unreasonable_ ,~ Prowl grumbled. ~I will be calling for the reserve units soon for a full offensive.~

~From the feel of it they are being slightly more than 'unreasonable'.~ Jazz commented, offering his mate love and affection since there was little else that he could do from where he was. ~And they will be ready depart the joor that you call for them.~

~Good,~ Prowl returned the affection and thanks that Jazz was doing what was needed at home so Prowl could focus on his duties. A sudden sputter of outrage flared as Prowl received a report. ~I must go. They've attacked again.~

Jazz just kept from flinching as the bond snapped shut again, cutting him off from his mate once more. After a metacycle he should be used it, he was sure, but being cut off from Prowl like this was not something that he was ever going to handle well. Offering a prayer to Primus for his mate's well-being, he focused on what he could do to help immediately. ::Kriemahni.::

::Yes, First Chosen?:: the elder warrior responded immediately.

::I just spoke with Lord Prowl. I would say there is a very good chance that the ready reserves will be called up this orn. Our lord is...irritated...with the House that dares to challenge him.:: Jazz warned.

::Lord Prowl is irritated?:: Kriemahni repeated, his tone speaking volumes of his understanding of how difficult that was. ::I will begin mobilizing the units.::

::Thank you.:: Jazz responded, confident that there was nothing to worry about and trusting the warrior mech implicitly. Sure that he had done all he could for the moment Jazz reached put for the datapad he had abandoned earlier and settled back to work.

* * *

Dinner was going to be a lonely affair, Jazz knew. Not only was Prowl gone with a tenth of the House's warriors, but now Kriemahni was gone with another eighty percent of them. Only a token force of full warriors were left in the compound, and meals had been restructured once more. No longer was refueling done in multiple shifts. Now there were only two. Not because of space, but because it was a bad idea to take all the guards off duty at once.

As he stepped in the door Jazz's gaze scanned the room reflexively, even as his pedes carried him in the direction of the energon dispensers and the rationed additives specifically doled out for growing sparklings and younglings and the handful of active carriers like Jazz. Thunderstorm, like the other mechlings, had the standard adult ration for their frametype.

It wasn't lost on Jazz that one of his creations was always nearby, and both had spent every night snuggled with him in his berth. It had surprised him how much the pair _liked_ snuggling. He had long known that Seekers were partial to trines and that even as mechlings his three tended to share a berth to recharge in, but to feel it in his creations' fields how much recharging with two others helped was an optic-opener for him. Not that he was going to try and discourage them in any way. It still wasn't as good as being in his mate's arms, with the soothing presence that was the center of his spark. But it was warm and comforting, and between their two frames he could at least find the recharge he needed to keep functioning efficiently for everyone that depended on him.

Energon in one hand and additives in the other, he turned and looked around the room for a quiet place to settle, only momentarily distracted by the light brush of Thunderstorm's wing against his shoulder. "Don't forget to pick up your second cube of energon before you leave. Keepsafe's orders."

"I won't." He promised with a chuckled, looking up in his creation's optics. "We don't want her to be mad at you, since she ordered you to remind me. Anyway-."

Whatever else he was going to add was forgotten at the momentary flare of raised voices, drawing that attention of both mechs to a small knot of frames gathered in one corner. Thunderstorm flicked his wings.

"They're talking about sire," he rumbled, his voice low.

"What are they saying?" Jazz asked quietly, already moving with silent grace in that general direction, energon in hand and all but forgotten.

The agitation in the mechling's field was clue enough. "That he is unfit, using such resources for a holding in Kaon."

By now they were close enough to hear, and Jazz split his attention between listening to what was being said and working to identify the speaker.

"To drain the House for a holding that has little financial value, to make the rest of us have to suffer when we are not directly under attack, what good reason is there?" The speaker demanded. "To call our mates up and draw this out? Our _lord_ is a fool and a worse!"

"He's too young to lead," another femme hissed. "He doesn't know the value of peace."

"A general, not a lord." The other femme agreed. "And certainly not _my_ lord."

That statement caused a ripple to run through her audience, fields flaring in mixed reactions but mostly shock. Suddenly someone made a terrified sound and bolted from the small gathering.

At Jazz's side Thunderstorm flared wings and armor, his ruby optics flashing brightly as he growled. "Let me kill her," the mechling half pleaded, half demanded. "That's treason!"

"They are words." Jazz said, loudly enough to catch the attention of everyone else present. His tone was cold, even and deadly as he continued. "And in wartime, they can be a thing of treason."

He could feel all of the optics on him, feel the fear radiating off of many just from being caught in the company of one who had spoken so rashly of the Lord of the House. They drew away from the small golden femme, even the one who had been standing at her side.

Jeweltone met his optics, trembling slightly but not backing down from the First Chosen or the enraged mechling seeker-kin at his shoulder. Gathering her courage she spoke again. "Treason or not, it is the truth. I-"

"Will not speak another word." Jazz growled, interrupting her sputtering and cutting her off mid sentence. "In a time of war such words are treason to the House, a crime punishable by deactivation."

He paused, judging the effect of his words and opening a comm line to Thunderstorm. ::Send for enough guards to escort these two, and Keepsafe.::

::Yes, First Chosen,:: he responded instantly before shifting his attention to the order.

Jazz saw the moment the potential repercussion of her words registered, both in the fearful brightening of her optics and in the way she cringed back.

"Being new to the ways of this House does not excuse your actions." Jazz continued, well aware that Jeweltone had been bonded into the House less than two vorns. Even if she wished to claim ignorance, the dark femme standing beside her had no such defense. "You are bonded to warriors, and for that reason alone you will live to see another orn. You will do so in isolation, with your vocalizers and comms deactivated, and you will subside on survival level rations as determined by the House medic. Your final fate will be decided when the Lord returns."

The dark femme simply nodded her acceptance to her fate and dipped her sensor wings in submission and waited for the guards, or rather guard, to arrive.

Jeweltone was staring at Jazz in disbelief. "You cannot!"

"I can. I will. I have done so." Jazz countered evenly, drawing to his full height and staring her down. "I am First Chosen of the Lord of the House of Shining Sun, and it is in my care that he had left the House in his absence."

"He is within his rights to have us both executed where we stand," the dark femme at her side said quietly but sharply. "Take the gift of your life and have some dignity."

Neither really noticed when Keepsafe walked in with one of the few warriors still in the complex, a youth only just in his adult frame.

"Keepsafe." Jazz acknowledged her presence first, sure that the femmes wouldn't cause any more fuss.

"How may I serve, First Chosen?" she used his title, sensing the tension in the room.

"Jeweltone and Nightshadow stand accused of treason. They will remain isolated from the rest of the House and exist on survival level energon rations. They will also have their vocalizers and comms silenced, so that they cannot stir up more trouble. You will see to their silence and determine their ration needs." Jazz ordered, quiet but firm.

"As you command, First Chosen," Keepsafe inclined her helm to him and stepped up to Jeweltone to do the work.

It was quiet as Keepsafe worked, broken only by the uncomfortable shifting of those still gathered around. The medic was quick and efficient, and both femmes were soon fully silenced.

"You understand your task?" Jazz asked, focusing in the guard for a moment.

"Yes, First Chosen," the young mech bowed his helm. "They are to be placed in separate cells, side by side. No visitors. Keepsafe will order energon when they are to receive it."

"Good." Acknowledgement and subtle praise together, Jazz signaled for him to lead the femmes away. The pair headed off obediently, the fight gone out of them as the full weight of their actions sunk in. Keepsafe bowed respectfully to Jazz before following the small party out after his nod.

Once they were gone Jazz turned to regard the rest of the mecha still gathered in the corner of the small mess. "Lord Prowl leads the House of Shining Sun, by the grace and will of Primus." He reminded them all, letting what they had just witnessed be lesson enough as he turned away, leaving them to process that.

His creation was at his side, a subtle but insistent guide to one of the tables.

"Drink, creator," Thunderstorm said quietly as he sat down. "You need your strength for the twins."

Jazz looked at him, then down at the energon in his hands. He nodded, dumping in the additives and watching as the energon swirled and changed color. "Thank you."

He paused, smiling a little. "They thank you too." He added softly.

Medium blue wings fluttered happily, the thick stripe of light red along the outer edges blurring slightly. "You are welcome."

"The guard schedule will have to altered again, to accommodate the new post." Jazz commented as he worked his way through the cube, easily hiding his reaction to the unpleasant taste of the raw additives after so many orns of consuming them.

"Those two are hardly dangerous, physically," Thunderstorm hummed. "Something younger mechlings or invalids could handle, rather than taking a fit mecha off guard duty."

Jazz pondered this, then nodded in approval of the idea. "Perhaps between you and Flashdrive you can compile a list of mecha able to perform that function."

"Of course," The young Seeker-kin flicked his wings in easy agreement. "It will be done before shift change."

* * *

In Tankon the reinforcements had arrived some orns before, turning the already cramped base into a sea of heavily armed and armored warriors of predominantly Praxian design. Warned well in advance, they had prepared the small holding for the influx as best they could, but there was still only so much land the holding controlled. In all, it made Songbird's orns easy to pass as there were always new mecha to meet and entertain, and unlike so many in Kaon, Praxians seemed to love her light voice.

Here she was safer than she could ever remember being. No meant no, and without hard feelings, if she was not interested in more than a conversation and song.

Here she was allowed enough fuel to keep her tanks from complaining, and for the first time since she had lost her last job that her frame was consistently in good repair.

All in all it was reason enough for her to work to stay.

"Songbird, would you refuel with me?" a serious voice she had known as one of the early arrivals, a mech that was given much respect by those around him despite his relative youth.

The small green femme stopped at the sound of her designation, turning with a welcome smile. "Of course sir."

"My designation is Manchet," he introduced himself as they turned towards the main hall that had been given over to a mess hall. "I believe it is well past time someone gave you a full briefing on being a camp follower to the House."

Amber optics flared in surprise, quickly hidden as she offered another smile and fell into step beside him. "I would appreciate any advice you would wish to offer." She murmured.

He nodded in acceptance as they walked. "The first thing you should understand is that Lord Prowl has never kept anyone who warmed his berth on campaign. Now that he is happily bonded he is much less likely to entertain such an idea. If your hope is to escape Kaon, you should court the unbonded mecha. One of them is much more likely to pay for you to come with us." He could see as that hope died in her, and then her firm nod of acceptance of his suggestion. 

Pleasing Lord Prowl would still be her top priority, but there had been more than a few mecha that she had crossed paths with, at least one of which she knew was currently unbonded, that would be worth courting. At least she already knew that Lord Prowl did not care who else she spent time with or interfaced with, so long as she was ready to attend him when he wished.

"Since your skill at singing and social nature are two things valued in Praxus it should not be difficult to attach yourself to one of the young, low ranking warriors. I do recommend being up front with your desires. Depending on what you wish in the long run will determine who is most suited to spend your energon on getting close to."

A small shiver ran through her frame. "I wish most to escape this city." She admitted quietly. "Safe transportation so that I could seek employment elsewhere was the most I had honestly hoped for."

"That should not be too difficult," Manchet told her as they got their rations, her much smaller than his as her needs were far less. "Most will expect you to remain with them for a few vorns, or some other form of repayment, as you negotiate with them. Approaching it as a business deal will provide the best results and the least possibility of a misunderstanding."

They settled in as much of an out of the way corner as they could find in the crowded conditions of the hold. Even at a time like this were most mecha were recharging the place still felt overrun.

"I shall remember that when I find someone to approach." Songbird said as she started on her energon, contentment rolling off of her as the simple but quality fuel hit her tanks. After Menchet had started on his she spoke again. "Are there other things I should know about residing here?"

"Everyone is going to assume you are here to buy safety, energon and escape with your frame," he said simply. "As you have likely noticed, most will assume your attentions come with a price and are ready to pay it. I know you are already aware that you are free to refuse attention you do not desire." He paused for a sip of energon. "This House typically arranges bondings for the strength of the next generation; love matches are rare so few of us look for them. That means if you desire more with a given mecha it will require more than making him like you to get that thought process going."

Another pause for a sip of energon. "If all else fails, approach Lord Prowl before he leaves and simply ask him for a contract for transportation to Praxus. The terms will not be as favorable as someone who wishes your company to continue, but it will get you to Praxus and keep you off the street."

"I doubt the price of escape will be worse than the consequences of remaining here." Songbird murmured, optics swirling in a way that said she had seen enough that she never wanted to see again. "I would enjoy being able to sing for a living again. Especially in a place where my singing is appreciated."

"That I believe you can find in Praxus. Continue as you have and you will prove to Lord Prowl, or anyone else, you are able to repay the price of your relocation," Menchet told her.

"Thank you." She tilted her helm, optics studying him curiously. "So what kind of performances do you do enjoy watching?"

He chuckled softly. "I'm young. Erotic dancing and sparring."

"Hmmm." She hummed, nodding and filing it away his answer with other similar responses she had gotten from other warriors. His weren't unusual, but it wasn't typical either. Far more preferred music and singing, especially that could be danced to.

"If you have no other questions, I have duties to return to," he said politely before standing.

"I do not. But I thank you for your time and the information." She said, tipping her helm respectfully.

* * *

Jazz grunted, forcing himself to relax as one of the sparklings lashed out, striking his fuel tank. He focused on the bond with the newsparks, preparing to try and settle them so he could work again, when the first warnings flared on his HUD.

"No..." He protested quietly and focused on the sparklings. ~No. Not now, you two. A little longer.~

~I need _out_ ,~ Sideswipe snarled back, his spark rate and every system jacked to the limit as his own systems screamed at him to get out and into the open air.

~Your sire.~ Jazz protested, even as he focused on the sparklings and the strain they were both under. His frame was taxed to the limit supporting them and getting Jazz through the orn. He refused to show any weakness in front of the House. He couldn't afford to. ~I need him home.~

There was a pause and Jazz felt both sparklings reach out for Prowl on the weaker sire-bond, calling for him to rescue them.

~Too tight.~ Jazz felt Sunstreaker shift, pushing against Jazz's internals and his own twin to emphasize the point. ~Waited long enough already.~

Prowl responded to the call from his unseperated sparklings by nudging the bond with Jazz.

~Love.~ Jazz answered, frame slumping back in the chair and running a hand over his abdominal plating, easing a little as the twins stopped pushing for the moment.

~What is wrong?~ Prowl demanded with a flare of concern that drew more of his attention from whatever he was doing.

~They are done waiting.~ Jazz sighed. ~I don't think I can convince them to hold off any longer.~

~Then do not try,~ Prowl said with a wash of regret and sadness. ~I am orns away from being done with the peace negotiations.~

A shudder ran through Jazz's frame, his spark screaming and twisting in his chest. He wanted Prowl. He _needed_ Prowl. Instead...~Love-the House will be in Thunderstorm's care.~

~Understood,~ Prowl responded with a wash of love, support and trust. ~I will be with you as much as I can,~ he promised even as the bond dimmed.

~Now we get _out_!~ Sideswipe growled, his struggling renewed, driven by the warnings his HUD was giving him.

~Easy, please. Give me another klik.~ Jazz pleaded with them even as he opened lines of communication. His first was to Thunderstorm, pinging the mechling with an urgent comm. With a tingle of relief he felt the twins settle a bit.

::Yes, creator?:: the response was nearly instant.

::Your brothers are refusing to wait any longer. I do not know how this is going to go, but the House is in your care if I am unavailable. Keep it well.:: Jazz informed him.

::Yes creator,:: Thunderstorm said with a tone of assurance. ::Keepsafe has been notified. I will be there momentarily.::

The other mech couldn't help but smile as the connection cut out. His creation, so concerned and together. The House medic had been his next call, only he found himself beat to the punch. With a sigh he resigned himself to waiting, only to hear Thunderstorm's powerful engines roar in for a hard landing a moment later. He _still_ wasn't used to how fast his creations could be when motivated.

The door opened to Thunderstorm's code and wide medium blue wings blocked the light as he moved quickly and smoothly into the office.

"Thunderstorm." Jazz greeted him softly, accepting the hand that helped him to his pedes and the protectively supportive embrace of the mechling already taller than he was. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, creator," he said firmly as he guided the very sparkling heavy mech from the room. "I will be there when creator can not be. Flashdrive can tend to the House as well as I for a few orns."

Personally relieved with how empty the house was at the moment Jazz leaned heavily on his creation on the way to the medical bay. He could feel things starting to shift already, and the restless motions of the sparklings determined to be free.

He squeezed Thunderstorm's arm gently as they arrived. "I told your creator you would be caring for the House. We trust you, both of you."

"Caring for the House includes caring for you," Thunderstorm said firmly. "If Flashdrive needs me, he'll comm. We're used to sharing authority."

Jazz's expression mixed the smile for his second creation and a grimace for the discomfort of his frame as they made their way to Keepsafe's domain. She was already there, and one look told Jazz that he was in for the lecture of a lifetime when she was no longer fixated on keeping the three of them functioning.

"I know." He said, acknowledging the look as he eased his hold on Thunderstorm as the mechling helped him on to the same berth Bladesinger had separated on.

"How long have the warnings been going on?" she spoke in the clipped tone and with the authority that only existed in times like this were it was more important that the patient do as they are told than any social order.

Jazz sighed, knowing she wasn't going to be pleased with him but knowing that there was only harm in lying to her. "The first one was eleven orns ago. The second was three orns ago. I managed to delay them both. The first warning this time appeared a joor before Thunderstorm carried me down here."

He paused as one of the twins shifted again in their cramped space, Keepsafe sputtered and Thunderstorm scowled down at him. "They are very eager to be out. Especially Sideswipe. I couldn't make them wait any longer."

"No doubt," the healer said tartly. "What in Primus' designation could make you think that was a good idea?"

"It wasn't." Jazz said, knowing that none of his reasons- some of them quite selfish, some of them legitimate concerns of the House, and some just the deep coding of a carrier- were going to placate the irate medic or the scowling mechling standing over him.

She muttered darkly as her hands moved along his abdominal plates, feeling with touch as well as more complex sensors, then looked up at Thunderstorm. "It would be good if you stay. This will not be an easy separation, even for twins. Delaying so long will make this very unpleasant for all of them."

"I intend to remain," the mechling said firmly. "Flashdrive is seeing to the House."

"Good," she relaxed a fraction and returned her attention to hooking Jazz up to several instruments and multiple IVs for various fluids.

~Want _out_ ,~ Sideswipe insisted, pressing outward again.

A shudder ran through Jazz's frame, plates shifting visibly with the sparkling's strength and determination. ~I know boldspark, I know.~ Jazz soothed. ~Just going to have to be patient a little longer. Then you can see light, and meet...meet your brothers.~

~Sire?~ Sunstreaker demanded, pushing his was into the conversation abruptly.

Jazz's spark twisted again. ~Soon.~ Was all he could promise as he prayed.

~I will be there as soon as I can be,~ Prowl promised through the bond with Jazz. He also offered a wave of support for his mate. ~I have a few breems all for you. We are taking a short break.~

It was enough to still both sparklings for a moment, giving Jazz's frame a bit of time to shift plating and parts before Sideswipe started to push again.

~Wish you were here love.~ Jazz murmured across the bond, taking advantage the of the short respite and the offer of his mate's attention while he had it. It was not the same as having his mate at his side, the knowing that he was _safe_ and _protected_ when he felt so vulnerable that only Prowl could offer, but it was still better than nothing. He knew Prowl was doing all he could.

~Easy boldspark.~ Jazz nudged Sideswipe gently over the bond as the sparkling began to struggle again. ~If you damage something so I can't shift it out of your way it is only going to slow you down.~

That got both the sparklings' attention and they stilled, allowing the plating to move unhindered once more.

"You're doing well," Thunderstorm encouraged Jazz, doing his best to play the supportive mate.

"As if you would know." Jazz grumbled softly at his creation, the affectionate field brushing against Thunderstorm's reassuring that Jazz was only teasing and trying to distract himself from the discomfort and stress.

"I studied for this duty extensively since sire left," Thunderstorm told him. "I know as much as he did when Bladesinger separated."

~Your fault.~ Sunstreaker growled at his creator. ~We wanted out long ago.~

~I know bravespark, I know. I'm sorry.~ Jazz tried to soothe him and his twin, attention turning mostly to the sparklings to in an attempt the gauge the level of strain this was placing on them. All his readouts said they were physically fine. Spark rates were high, but within an acceptable range. They were stressed but not to any danger.

Plus Keepsafe had settled into her normal mood, efficiently assisting the plates, cables and wiring to move more quickly. "This will be far more painful than before," she warned him. "Your systems are in confusion because of the delays, and theirs are pushing them to move more quickly than normal."

"I know." Jazz had already resigned himself to the pain and strain. He had known it was going to be bad when he felt a system shifting before the other had moved out of it's way. "Just as long as they're all right."

"You are monitoring them, as am I," she assured him. "If it comes to it I will tear your abdominal cavity apart. They are complete and ready to emerge, even if your systems aren't quite ready to let go yet. I can fix you after they are safe."

"Might be the easiest on everyone." Permission and understanding as Jazz settled on the berth, caught between the restless shifting of the twin sparklings and the abnormal movements of his own armor and plating. It was both easier and harder than last time. He now knew what to expect, but knowing somehow still didn't prepare him for what was happening inside his frame.

If the twins were anything like their sister, at the first sign of light and the freedom it offered he was in for some pain and repairs anyway.

He felt both their sparkrates and systems spike sharply with a plate move that Jazz calculated meant just that; they _saw_ for the first time. Even if it was just fuzzy light penetrating the darkness of their construction chambers both surged towards it on pure reflex, driven by protocols unique to separating sparklings.

The simultaneous, abrupt shift by both of them left Jazz hissing in pain, the monitors hooked into him spiking in response to readings from his systems as they desperately tried to compensate for the strain being placed on them.

There was a logical order to everything that took place during separation. The exertion required of a sparkling to climb free of their carrier initiating and engaging the systems that would support them for the rest of their functioning, helping to make the transition to no longer being supported by their carrier. Energy stores stockpiled in the orns before separation gave them the strength to be free, directed by protocols that would only ever be utilized once in their lifetime.

Jazz was now facing the consequences of tampering with that order as sparklings that had been granted extra orns to grow and build up energy reserves directed all of it to obey the protocols directing them to free themselves. Sideswipe in particular was determined, and though the net results were much the same, the _feel_ of his struggles was very different from Bladesinger's. She had been frantic, nearly panicked in her need to reach the light and open air. He was simply too eager and not fully grasping the consequences of his actions.

Something important tore inside Jazz's abdominal cavity as his systems struggled to synch with the sparkling's efforts and found themselves lacking.

"Do you wish to be in stasis?" Keepsafe's voice demanded a response.

"No." The answer was instant, gritted out around the pain swelling through his frame, backed by determination. He _would_ see his sparklings emerge, and he _would_ greet them, even if their sire could not be there to do so.

"As you wish," she murmured as she set to work cutting and using her medical overrides to force his plating to move too fast. It would cause damage, but Jazz was fit and would recover. The sparklings took priority when the carrier wouldn't be crippled, and better for her to choose how and where the damage would occur, instead of leaving it to chance.

Sensing freedom growing closer Sunstreaker joined his brother, pulling free of many of the connections still linking him to his carrier and making his own path towards the growing light. Instead of directly challenging his brother, he pushed at Sideswipe to shift him over as he pulled and kicked his way towards the light at Sideswipe's side.

Pain tore through Jazz's awareness, enough to cause his visual processors to fritz, along with much of his awareness.

It was all he could do for a moment to stay online, surrendering watch over his creations to the medic as struggled to focus through the pain and having the very fleeting thought that if they were moving this quickly hopefully it wouldn't last long.

"Focus, creator," Thunderstorm's deep voice, so resonant of his carrier's, reached Jazz and helped him as he felt Keepsafe _tear_ a large chunk of his armor completely off, taking more than a few cables and wires with it.

That voice- his creation. His creations, now making hash of his insides as Keepsafe simply removed many of the obstacles in their path.

His creations, all the same, and he reached out with welcome and encouragement. They were not going to be careful, in reality they were incapable of it in the grip of separation protocols, but they were willing to be quick, and right now that was a compromise he was willing to accept.

He felt the first flare of excitement from Sideswipe as the sparkling caught his first real glimpse of the outside world, unfiltered by his carrier. That excitement spread to Sunstreaker through their twin-bond, then exploded with a completely different kind of reaction as he experienced the first view and ventilation on his own.

While Sideswipe was excited simply to be free and experiencing something new, Sunstreaker was excited by the way the new environment played across his sensors.

It was a revealing insight into how different the pair were, despite the bond between them, and even the intense pain faded into the background as his attention centered completely on the bonds he shared with them. He welcomed the difference, equal affection flowing to them as he felt them pause, processing these new sensations. The light striking their optics. Ventilation systems processing air all on their own. Sound vibrations striking soft and vulnerable protoform directly and traveling unmuffled through their audios.

He also felt Keepsafe remove yet another section of his armor, and take advantage of the same pause to tidy cables and lines out of the way instead of cutting or tearing them at convenient break points. His frame was a mess, he was sure. As bad as any training accident he'd been witness to. Maybe worse. A tiny corner of his mind wondered if Prowl would react the way he would to a wound or if it would be different because it was his mate and their creations separating in the middle of the mess of internals.

"Don't fade out on us," Thunderstorm said firmly, squeezing Jazz's hands. "They're almost out."

He squeezed back, using the motion to help him ground and process, focusing for a moment on where the twins were and the shape he was in. They were free, or free enough, and he gently touched them both over the bonds. ~There's more. Come on.~

Sunstreaker was the first to respond this time, bracing himself against Jazz's insides and pushing up as his hands scrambled for a hold to pull him the rest of the way free. That handhold turned out to be one of Keepsafe's hands, while Sideswipe used Jazz's hip joint to finish pulling/crawling out of his carrier's frame.

Jazz felt their relief at being free, the calm as they looked around, and struggled to raise up enough for a good look, only to be frustrated as his frame responded jerkily, if at all. "Here, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker." He called softly. To his immense relief it was enough to draw both sparkling's attention. Keepsafe helped them crawl up to their carrier's chest, into his arms and above his spark.

"Try to keep them settled there while I put you back together," Keepsafe told him with a glance at Thunderstorm as well.

Jazz chirred softly, nuzzling at them both as Thunderstorm helped to clean them up, gently wiping separation reside and their carrier's energon and fluids from their frames. 

Sunstreaker was exhausted, stretching out over his carrier's spark and safe in the warmth and calm that pulsed in it. Sideswipe still had enough energy to prop himself partway up and look around, his helm turning this way and that every time someone moved.

Jazz reached up, wrapping an arm around his creations to support them both as Thunderstorm finished. "Energon." He prompted his elder creation gently; the sound of his voice drew both sparklings attention.

There were not desperate need of it, but the fuel would still be good for them before they dropped into recharge, a state Jazz was still stubbornly resisting himself.

Thunderstorm nodded and turned to get the two small cubes. He handed one to Jazz while he helped Sunstreaker sit up partway to drink.

Both sparklings latched onto the energon, figuring out how to drink it quickly and still driven by the same survival protocols. Jazz sighed softly, watching as they drank their fill and settled back onto his chest, curling together as heavy tanks and recent energy expenditure pushed them into recharge.

"Now will you go under while I put you back together?" Keepsafe asked.

There was a sense of struggle from Jazz, visor going offline as he forced himself to actually think through everything and argue with the carrier coding that made his first response instant refusal.

"Yes." It was a grudging agreement, but it was agreement.

* * *

Three orns after the twins separated Jazz was still confined to Keepsafe's care. He'd been brought out of stasis ten joors earlier, though he'd done little more than nuzzle the recharging twins on his chest, drink a cube of medical energon and drop into recharge himself. Despite all the damage done in the separation, when Lord Prowl looked into the room he saw his mate whole and in recharge with two healthy-looking sparklings curled up on his chest.

"It was a difficult separation," Keepsafe kept her voice low. "I'm ready to release him to rest and recover in your quarters when he boots up. Please keep the activity very light for the next half decaorn at least. The twins are thankfully very healthy and strong. They will make fine warriors when they mature. Your bonded is an excellent carrier."

"Yes, he is an excellent creator and mentor as well," Prowl smiled softly, a look few things drew from him. "May I sit with them until he wakes?"

"Yes," she nodded. "I expect him to wake, and go directly back into recharge once he is in his own berth."

Prowl inclined his helm in understanding and entered the room silently to pull a chair up next to the berth and sit quietly, simply watching his mate and the new lives they had created together.

One of the twins stirred on Jazz's chest, a leg escaping the tight, tucked posture that mimicked the safe confines of being inside their carrier that their frames had yet to forget. The leg was pulled back, then allowed to relax once more with a soft, sleepy sound.

Slowly, gently, Prowl extended his EM field to weave with his mate's, then caress the two sparklings. Jazz's field responded to the touch with the speed of long familiarity, latching on and melding with Prowl's to find a deeper peace, even in his current state. 

Both sparklings stirred slightly at the familiar but unfamiliar touch, Sideswipes optics even lighting for a brief moment as he helm lifted with a soft chirp. Prowl hummed softly in reply, reassuring the nearly helpless being that he was safe.

The sparkling regarded him for a moment before apparently deciding that he was all right and burrowing back in beside his twin, stinking into his carrier's arms as he settled once more. Even the small impact was enough to rouse his carrier, Jazz's field flickering as visor flashed dimly, checking on the newsparks before settling on Prowl.

Joy-surprise flared across the bond as Jazz pushed against it, wanting to believe what he was seeing. ~Love?~

~I am here,~ Prowl responded with a caress across the bond and a gentle hand on along Jazz's helm. ~It is over.~

Jazz turned his helm, following the caress to nuzzle against Prowl's hand as mixture of emotions swirled across the bond. Relief that Prowl had returned safe, joy that his mate was with him once more. Then sadness, regret, as Jazz's attention turned to the newsparks on his chest, strong and smart and perfect. ~I'm sorry. I tried...wanted you to be here. But they're as stubborn and determined as the rest....~

~I know love,~ Prowl gently chastised him for risking his own health to have Prowl there. ~I am sorry I could not come. They are healthy. You will recover. That is what matters. Do not risk yourself again,~ he ordered, though it was more like a plea.

Carefully Jazz shifted the recharging sparklings, freeing a hand and reaching for Prowl, wanting the contact and needing more reassurance that his bonded was indeed sitting as his side.

~I won't.~ He promised as their hands clasped. ~Though by Primus' mercy I won't have to make the choice again.~

~By His mercy,~ Prowl agreed, though he was highly doubtful they would be so fortunate. ~Keepsafe said that when you woke you could move to our quarters to continue recovering.~

~Now?~ The hopefulness in the question was clear, Jazz wanting very much to be back in the safety and familiarity of their quarters.

~If you feel strong enough to walk there,~ Prowl nodded, caressing Jazz's horn with one finger.

~With some help.~ Jazz admitted, the undertone implying that he would find the strength if it meant being able to rest in their berth. His fingers curled lightly around his mate's. ~Bladesinger?~

~She did well,~ he smiled. ~She is currently in charge of packing up for the units to come home.~

Relief and pride flooded back across the bond, tension that had gripped Jazz's frame easing away once more. ~Good. I am sure I will hear all about when she is home again.~

~Yes, I am quite sure,~ Prowl chuckled softly, rousing the sparklings briefly.

Jazz sighed. ~If Keepsafe is willing to release me, I am ready to be back in _our_ berth.~

~As am I,~ Prowl leaned in to kiss him softly. ~It is not the same without you by my side.~

The flare of need and love across the bond at the gentle contact revealed just how much Jazz had missed his mate. ~Thunderstorm and Flashdrive watched over me when you were gone, but I missed you.~

Prowl tried to sooth that flare of need, knowing he couldn't do more than kiss and hold for several more orns. ~Would you rather lean on Thunderstorm, or have him help carry the twins?~

~Would rather lean on you. Though our creation did an impressive job of getting me to Keepsafe when those two decided it was time to separate.~ Jazz said with a touch of his old humor.

~He is a good creation, and a _fine_ mechling,~ Prowl didn't hide his approval for the creation he had carried. ~Then he can carry the twins while I tend to you?~

Jazz nodded. ~Need to move soon though.~ He added, already feeling his energy begin to wane once more.

~Energon?~ Prowl asked even as he pinged Thunderstorm to come to medical.

~Please.~ It wouldn't fix the problem, but it would help getting him where he needed to go.

Prowl unsubspaced a cube and held it to his mate's lips. ~Drink,~ he urged, not turning to look when Thunderstorm stepped into the room. "Jazz will finish his recovery in our quarters. I will support him. I understand the twins like you."

"Yes, creator," Thunderstorm smiled and walked up to the berth to carefully collect the recharging pair.

Rumbling growls and whines of protest issued from both sparklings as they were gently lifted from Jazz's chest, only to taper off as they were wrapped in their brother's familiar field and cradled safely in his arms.

Jazz had finished most of the cube Prowl was pushing at him by the time the pair were settled, pushing the rest away and struggling to rise. ~I'll finish it later. Probably going to need after the walk.~

With a small nod Prowl helped him to his pedes, encouraging his mate to lean heavily against him. The progress to their quarters in the main building was slow despite the fact that there was _no one_ to meet. Even in the much reduced population, that was rather unusual.

~Flashdrive is probably clearing the way so no one sees the twins,~ Prowl commented. ~If that reduces your embarrassment, all the better.~

It wasn't so much embarrassment as a deep need to appear strong before the House no matter what, to try and inspire some of the trust they had in Prowl and to do honor to the designation of his mate and the trust Prowl had placed in him. Jazz was still thankful though, allowing Prowl to take even more of his weight and steady his frame as he moved.

Keepsafe had seen to all of the major repairs, but the extent of the damage was pushing his self-repair systems hard as they struggled to align, adjust and recalibrate most of his insides and a good part of his frame core. It was also the first time Jazz could recall being thankful for the strictly enforced tradition that kept newsparks of the House out of the public optics until their first armor appeared.

~It helps.~ He agreed, truth and trying to distract himself from just how weak he was.

~We're almost there,~ Prowl slid and arm further around his mate, gripping and armor plate edge to give himself a firm hold, and spread that sensor wing widely to shield his mate from any prying optics that may come from behind.

This may not embarrass _Jazz_ , but it stirred deep-set protocols in Prowl to shield his mate's weakness from any who might take advantage of it. ~You did very well, love.~

~Good thing,~ was the answer, even the short walk draining Jazz to the point that his awareness of the world around him was fading, the energy traded for the strength to simply keep going forward. ~Going to recharge better though.~ He added.

~Good....~ Prowl paused as they entered the last hallway, their door in sight. ~I can carry you.~

That suggested was answered with a flare of shame, and the very real knowledge that Jazz needed the help being offered. With a soothing wash of affection and support Prowl scooped Jazz up, careful of his still-healing frame, and walked smoothly behind Thunderstorm into their quarters, to their berthroom, where Jazz was gently settled on the large, soft berth.

Prowl climbed in and snuggled against his side before Thunderstorm settled the twins on Jazz's chest.

Jazz nuzzled them both, settling them with ease before looking up at Thunderstorm. "Thank you." He murmured, visor starting to go dim.

"Recharge well, creators," Thunderstorm smiled before slipping from the room.

"Recharge well," Prowl nuzzled him, watching his mate drift into recharge with their healthy twin sparklings on his chest.


	21. Intrigues

It was arguably the most important annual event to occur in the province of Praxus. The Royal Gala, hosted by the Royal family of Praxus, was a time for the wealthy and socially elite to mingle and compare. It was a time of gossip, of alliances made and broken, of social connections forged and severed.

And Jazz hated it with a passion. While he was social by nature, and defiantly more so than his mate, this was torture in its purest form for a mech who still cared little for politics. But being the only bonded of the Lord of the House of Shining Sun, the first military House of Praxus, and his First Chosen, meant that Jazz was not only obligated to attend, but to mingle with everyone present and uphold his mate's honor and the honor of his House.

He had escaped for the moment, standing by a wide spread of refreshments and selecting a cube of high grade that was more sweet than potent and sipping at it slowly. Somewhere in the sea of mostly winged frames were their elder creations, turned loose for their first large social event. Out of the corner of his visual feed he spotted the familiar medium blue and pale red flash of Thunderstorm's wings fluttering in what could only be flustered interest.

It took a brief moment, but when Jazz IDed the white, red and blue Seeker speaking with their middle creation, he knew trouble was going to be coming over it.

His mate would _not_ be pleased that Lord Starscream of Vos had their creation's attention.

With their history...A history that Jazz himself didn't appreciate for that matter, given what his mate had suffered at the hands of a mech who had apparently not cared that he was causing a mecha he supposedly cared for _pain_. He debated for a moment, trying to decide what to do. He could summon his creation with a simple call. Thunderstorm was unfailingly obedient.

But part of this was allowing their creations room to grow and stretch their wings, with all of the connotations.

~Love.~ He reached out to Prowl over the bond.

The sensation he received by way of acknowledgement was more than enough warning that Prowl had seen the pair. ~I can't fault him for finding such attention flattering,~ Prowl said, emotions shaking in an effort to allow this. ~Starscream has the rank and status.....~ he couldn't go on. He had once thought that he was in love with the Seeker. He had once thought the royal loved him. That result had nearly deactivated him, or worse, _crippled_ him.

Yet Thunderstorm had none of the highly delicate logic circuits and tactical systems that had caused Prowl to have issues with Starscream. The mechling was in fact very resilient, largely unflappable and very secure in who he was. If Prowl had not had incompatible hardware, how different may it have been?

~You probably would have been very happy, and I would never have been a part of your functioning.~ Jazz pointed out quietly. ~Your creation is intelligent and strong-willed, and as practical as his carrier. He will not be blinded by trappings like rank and wealth for long.~

~No, he will not,~ Prowl agreed to the truth of it and embraced the fact to help calm himself down. ~He is also seeking a trine to fly with, driven by protocols I barely have a whisper of. They are more blinding than anything we have.~

~And odds are that he will have spoken to every unaligned Seeker present tonight before the orn is over.~ Jazz pointed out. ~Just as his brother is.~ Jazz added, as he located his mate and made his way across the grand hall to join Prowl, one hand sliding discretely across his bonded's sensor wing a in soothing motion. At this range he could feel just how intense the stress was for his mate, and how that sensor wing pressed into his touch for comfort that was welcome and needed. That Prowl could be this distressed and still speaking as if all was well to a minor Praxian royal that was rather shamelessly flirting with him only reminded Jazz of just how much processing power his mate had.

~Yes,~ Prowl attempted to verbalize his reaction before simply sharing it.

~And they are only mechlings. We will worry about that when it comes, if it does, love.~ Continuing to stroke along his wing soothingly, a fierce protectiveness of his mate spreading across the bond.

~Yes,~ Prowl accepted the support to help him put the flirting of his creation and Starscream out of his processors. ~What do you think of Sweetwind?~

Jazz allowed his attention to wander over the other mech, taking in the softer than normal coloration and the flicking of his doorwings as he spoke. ~That he isn't bad but not someone that I would want to deal with on an ornly basis.~ He finally concluded, sharing with the Prowl the little things that rubbed Jazz the wrong way but were simply a part of who the mech was not and likely to change.

The way he continued to twitch his hand when he wanted to emphasize his words. His habit of repeating something several times, without picking up that individual he was speaking to already understood the point being made.

Prowl hummed over the bond in understanding and willing agreement. It didn't take him long to extract them from the conversation after that, politely sending Sweetwind on his way to flirt with someone else.

Jazz inserted himself smoothly by Prowl's side, offering his bonded the cube of high grade he had found for his mate on the refreshment table before joining him. "Have you seen Bladesinger yet?"

Prowl pointed her out, currently flirting shamelessly with an Aerial mechling her own age. ~I'm not sure where he's from, though. She's been with him for three breems already.~

Jazz actually had to smother a chuckle as he watched the slightly flustered mech flirt back. ~He looks a little dazzled at the moment. Though she can have that effect on someone who isn't prepared for it.~

He studied the mechling for another moment before homing in on a House crest. ~House Skyhigh. She could do worse.~ He concluded.

~Yes, she could,~ Prowl agreed. ~Be interesting to see if anything comes of it.~

~Maybe I'll poke at her later, see if I can't get a designation out of her in case it does.~ Jazz answered, watching his eldest for a moment and determining that she, at least, was slightly serious about it.

~I saw you speaking with Lord Skystride earlier. I know that was one of the Houses you were considering sending Flashdrive to for a while. Negotiating?~ Jazz asked they wandered through the sea of frames, nodding in acknowledgement and returning greetings from allies and adversaries alike.

That was another factor that irritated Jazz. A House could hate your Lord and everything about your House, but they would on their best behavior in a setting like this, and an outsider would never know that there was bad energon between the two of you. Even Prowl's explanation that they were all related by sparkline, frameline or bond didn't help. Thinking it as sibling and family rivalries, a subject Jazz was entirely too familiar with, didn't help his irritation much.

He understood, he just didn't _like_ it. The music changed, shifting from background entertainment to that of a formal dance, and those gathered cleared the floor to allow the Lord of the Royal House and his First Bonded to have the first dance of the evening.

Praxian dancing had been a slight revelation to Jazz, the often formal, intricate movements speaking another language as the pair flowed across the floor in a series of graceful swirls and flight-mimicking leaps. It was a language that he was learning to read even if he lacked the appendages with which to speak most of it.

This particular dance he had seen before. It was as old as the tradition of dancing at these functions, would probably be one of those traditions that would carry on in to time immortal with no remembering how it started or why they perpetuated it.

With a graceful swirl the couple came to a stop, bowing smoothly before the Lord offered his Bonded his arm and they abandoned the floor so that the rest of their guests might have a turn if they wished.

With a private smile for his mate, Prowl offered Jazz his hand to join the dancers, which included two of their three mechling creations. Thunderstorm was still being flirted with by Starscream.

~Still willing to be seen on a dance floor with me?~ Jazz asked, taking his mate's hand and following as Prowl inserted them smoothly in the pattern of other couples already out on the floor.

~Always,~ Prowl purred, easily adapting their dance to compensate for Jazz's lack of sensor wings. ~Our first dance will never be as embarrassing as my struggles to learn to dance in the first place.~

Jazz smiled, leaning in for a chaste kiss without missing a step, trusting completely in Prowl's ability to guide them across the dance floor without endangering any of the other dancers.

~You, awkward?~ Jazz laughed across the bond in a verbal dance as familiar as the one their feet now performed. ~Never.~

~I am many things, my love, including awkward on occasion,~ Prowl chuckled in good humor across the bond, not a trace of the playful conversation showing on the outside. He also didn't show just how close an optic he was keeping on all three of his mechlings and their companions for the moment.

~I don't recognize the pair with Flashdrive.~ Jazz admitted, easily following his mate's train of thought. ~They do seem rather persistent in their attempts to attract and hold his attention though.~

~Markwing and Darkfire, House Tremblewind out of Vos,~ Prowl supplied. ~It would be a fine step up for him, and I am sure he would be treated well. They're of Coda's former House.~

~It would.~ Jazz agreed after he placed the House. Even after all this time it still took him longer than his mate to navigate the rankings of the Houses from memory. Even if the pair courting him were not placed high in the House themselves Flashdrive would still be well off, and if he was happy with the match it was even more worthwhile.

The song ended, the musicians pausing for a break and to allow those on the floor to rearrange as they pleased. Jazz took advantage the momentary pause to watch Bladesinger exit the floor, the same mech from before stepping just ahead to courteously fetch her energon, before turning back to his mate. ~Another, love?~

~For as long as you wish to,~ Prowl resisted the urge to claim a passionate kiss, something inappropriate for the setting.

Jazz smiled, just keeping it from morphing into a smirk as he felt the desire in his bonded. ~Then at least one more.~ He purred, suggestive emotions tickling across the bond. ~Since this is as close as I can get until we are in private.~

~I am going to _enjoy_ ravishing you after all the teasing that is happening,~ Prowl rumbled, somehow keeping his engine quiet even as he shared what he had planned for his mate.

The flash of his mate's visor was the only outward sign of the effect that Prowl was having, but it was also all the confirmation that the Praxian needed to know that Jazz was all for the idea as they stepped together and away as the music started once more. The flirting continued, suggestions slipped across the bond, subtle touches hidden under the motions of the dance, until Jazz felt even his strong self-control in the area beginning to slip. When the last notes of the current song slipped away he stepped back from Prowl. "Energon?"

"Yes," Prowl agreed smoothly, offering his arm to his mate. It was something that never stopped warming Jazz, that blatant display of 'he is _mine_ and I want him that way' that Prowl took nearly every opportunity to display. ~Don't become too charged. Save some for the energon gel paints.~

Included with the suggestion was a mental image of painting _inside_ Jazz's valve, and over his spark crystal, before Prowl licked him clean.

The faintest hint of warning escaped Jazz, his frame vibrating slightly at the thought as he offered a suggestion of his own in revenge, already sharing the patterns and glyphs he intended to trace on his bonded's sensor wings just so he could remove them with his glossa.

"I'll get the energon, if you will find us a place to rest." Jazz offered softly. Prowl nodded agreeably. He enjoyed the teasing as much as his mate, but it was for fun, not to push the other to past their limits of control.

With a small squeeze of affection on his mate's arm Jazz headed off in the direction of the energon array, swiftly finding a set of cubes that would replenish the energy they had expended without putting either of the pair anywhere close to being overcharged. He turned, scanning the crowd first and then feeling along the bond when his mate was not clearly visible. The feel that he got in return was one of Prowl being slightly distracted, and Jazz set off in the direction of the feeling, curious.

The bond link led him to a small balcony overlooking a palace garden, a place Prowl would have known that Jazz would appreciate relaxing away from the thick of the event for a klik or two. But even his mate's planning had probably not factored in being cornered by another mecha or the femme in his shadow.

"My Lord Prowl?" The dark toned Praxian addressed Prowl, asking bordering on demand for attention.

"Lord Sliderule," Prowl canted his wings in acknowledgement.

"Congratulations on your recent victory, and the additions to your House." Sliderule said, taking the motion as acceptance of his presence and moving closer.

"Thank you," Prowl accepted the complement and waited patiently for the other lord to get to his actual purpose.

"I was wondering if I might _present_ one of my creations- Songnote, of the House of Tradewind." With that Sliderule stepped aside, revealing the femme that had been standing in his shadow.

Slender and graceful, the red and chrome femme bowed low, wings canting respectfully. Bright aqua optics flickered up to meet Prowl's golden ones before being focused on the ground once more. "My Lord." She murmured, voice as soft and musical as her designation implied.

"The oldest creation of my seconded bonded, and currently unattached." Sliderule added, discreetly watching Prowl out of the corner of his own optics.

Prowl, true to his nature, looked her over from helm to pede, then focused on her creator. "Her datafile," he extended his hand.

The chip with the requested information was produced and handed over quickly. Sliderule most likely had several more identical ones stashed in his subspace to be handed out to other potential suitors.

Prowl slid the chip into an arm slot, one of many on his frame, and downloaded the contents to integrate into his databases while he talked with the relative youth. "I would speak with Songnote for a time."

"Of course." The mech nodded respectfully, casting a _look_ at his creation as he left them alone.

Jazz waited until the Lord was out of sight, watching everything from the other entrance, and only now reached out to Prowl. ~Let me know if you want me, love.~

~Do come. The alliance would be advantageous and her file indicates she is acceptable,~ he responded with a databurst of the file. "Tell us of yourself, what is not in your datafile."

"What would my Lord like to know?" She asked, hiding her confusion at the 'us' until she saw Jazz approach.

"Do you know who I am, and what is expected of my bonded?" Prowl gave her a direct question as Jazz tucked himself against Prowl's side, the interaction one of pure affection.

"Lord Prowl, of the House of Shining Sun." Her optics looked over Jazz quickly before rising to meet Prowl's, sensor wings still canted in a respectful tilt. "I know it is a military House, and that I have nothing to offer in the way of arms strength, but I would do whatever my Lord required of me."

Prowl hummed in understanding. "Tell me what you _want_ in your functioning."

A small quiver ran through her wings before she managed to still them. "I sing my Lord, and create music. I would like to continue to do so, for the glory of a House. I had hoped to bond one day, as well."

Jazz watched the femme as she spoke, visor allowing him to take in every twitch and motion of her frame, subtle signs, without her noticing. ~She's about as keen on this as I was, love.~

~That is my assessment as well,~ Prowl agreed. ~You and I turned out _very_ well however.~ "Why do you not wish to bond yet?"

Songnote tilted her helm, as though surprised at the phrasing of the question. "It is not that I do not wish to bond, my Lord. It is only that I have been so focused on my music lately that talk of a political bonding had not been discussed in some time."

Prowl canted his wings in acceptance of her answer. "How do you feel about sparklings?"

There was a small flutter of her wings at that that made Prowl smile slightly. "I enjoy caring for my sibling's younglings. I would like creations of my own to care for."

~Is there anything you wish _me_ to ask her?~ Prowl asked his mate.

~Not that I can think of love. Planning to go ahead and give her creator an answer one way or another?~ Jazz asked, leaning into his mate and allowing his gaze to roam over the red and chrome femme again. ~Or something you would like me to try and find out?~

~See if you like her enough to share me with her,~ Prowl nuzzled him. ~I do want an alliance with her House, but as best I can I will allow you to choose who.~

Love flared across the bond as Jazz offered his bonded the cube of energon that he had brought. ~I will, if it is important to you and the House. She doesn't seem that bad.~

With that he stretched and straightened. "I am Jazz, Songnote. Would you care to join me for some energon?"

The femme looked at Prowl, seeking permission. He nodded to her, watching the pair wonder off slightly.

Prowl was left to observe the gala and think for a little while, motion through one of the doors heralding Sliderule's return just as Jazz reached out across the bond. ~Still on the balcony love?~

~Yes, and Siderule has returned for an answer,~ he responded.

There was a gentle brush across the bond, a mix of emotion as Jazz spoke again. ~Keeping in mind that I have no desire to share you, love, I can and will. But there is something she is not telling us. She is more not ready for this than I was. I would learn more before I tell him yes.~

~I understand,~ Prowl said before turning his attention to the other. "Lord Sliderule."

"Lord Prowl." The darker Praxian looked around, and even though it was well hidden Prowl could tell that the other mech was displeased. "My creation has left you alone so soon?"

"She is with my bonded," Prowl defended her subtlety. "Since I have no objection to her, it is his choice now. An alliance between our Houses would be beneficial."

"To both of our Houses." Sliderule agreed with a small bow and pleased flick of his wings. "It would be good for Songnote as well. She should sing for you, perhaps. She has a lovely voice." He paused before adding. "And a strong spark with a fondness for sparklings. She would add many fine mecha to the House."

"Agreed," Prowl canted his wings. "I would begin negotiations for the alliance next decaorn."

"House Tradewind looks forward to opening negotiations with the House of Shining Sun. Thank you for your time." Sliderule answered, bowed once more and slipped away with the air of one who was having a _good_ evening.

He was gone for less than a quarter klik before Jazz was once more against his mate's side.

~Other than her lack of desire to bond to me, how do you feel about her?~ Prowl nuzzled him, pleased to have the relative privacy of their spot for a few kliks.

~She is interesting. Animated and knowledgeable when you find the right topic. She is well designated, truly passionate about her music. And she was very interested in the twins. They are practically a miracle of Primus in her House.~ Jazz summed up, considering. ~She was also honest when she said that she is not a warrior, nor does she understand the ways of a warrior House.~

He leaned his helm against Prowl's shoulder. ~If I am to share you, there are mecha I would oppose far more. She would not answer instead of lie to me. I watched her hesitate more than once.~

~I have agreed to begin negotiating a bond alliance with her House,~ Prowl tipped his face up for a kiss, long and tender. ~I have no personal desire for another. Politics demand it of me. I would prefer to be selective on who we bring in; the sooner we find the mecha for the expected and needed bonds, the less likely we are to be forced into accepting one we do not want.~

~I understand.~ Jazz sighed, one hand sliding around Prowl's side to stroke a sensor wing softly. ~But until I must share I fully intend to enjoy being the only one.~

~As will I,~ Prowl purred. ~I believe one more dance and we can slip away without appearing rude.~

~Than by all means, let us dance.~ Jazz purred in reply, slipping his hand into the offered arm as Prowl led the way inside once more.


	22. Praxian Wings

Jazz purred in contentment as he felt his mate finally finish relaxing as the energy from the overload slowly dissipated. Eventually Jazz would try to find out what had worked his mate up to the point that Prowl had returned tense and frustrated, but for now it as enough that Jazz's assault on the Praxian's sensor wings had resulted in a melted puddle of mech.

Still purring Jazz leaned forward, resting against his mate's back and continuing to stroke the twitching wings in a soothing manner. "Feel better?" He teased gently in Prowl's audio.

"Yes," the lax frame murmured in reply. "Sometimes ... I wish you could enjoy how _good_ that feels."

His mate nuzzled the back of his neck affectionately. "Know how much you like them. Not a Praxian frame though love...Sorry."

"Don't be," Prowl turned his helm to nuzzle his bonded. "Though you could have them, if you really wanted to."

There was a flare of surprise from his bonded at the suggestion, and then the quiet stillness from Jazz that meant he was seriously considering something. A gentle hand traveled down one of Prowl's wings again, Jazz focusing on every twitch and quiver even the lightest of touches could cause.

He had seen, and even experienced a little secondhand through his bonded, what could be done with information offered by the sensors. He had also seen mecha brought down by the same appendages, something that he had never had to worry about. Still...

His helm fell to rest on Prowl's shoulder. "Not sure how I'd look with wings love, or learning to handle them. But..."

"You would be hansom, just as you are now," Prowl nuzzled him across the bond, full of reassurance that as appealing as the thought was to Prowl, it was not because he found Jazz lacking. "It would be strange at first, learning to cope with all the new information and the extra processors that handle it, but you would adapt very well. I am sure of it. It is simply something to think about. We have the knowledge, experience and resources to do the work very well."

Jazz purred softly, simply basking in his mate's acceptance and approval for a moment before humming thoughtfully. "Keepsafe would be doing the work?"

"As long as she believes she can," Prowl said. "If not, she will oversee what specialists are called in. It is not a common procedure."

Jazz nuzzled against him, still contemplative but very accepting of the idea. "It would at least be worth getting a professional opinion."

"Then we will speak with Keepsafe after breakfast tomorrow?" Prowl suggested.

"So long as you are free." Jazz agreed, visor flashing a little in actual excitement at the prospect.

"I am," he assured his mate. "My morning rounds have flexibility to them and there are no meetings scheduled."

"Then I like the idea very much." Jazz purred as he ran a hand down his mate's back in a manner far more suggestive than the gentle touches from before.

* * *

It was a feeling that Jazz was more familiar with than he would have liked, and it didn't help that he hated it. Coming out of forced deep stasis was always a challenge. The slow, groggy way his processor functioned as the medical overrides forced each system to come online and integrate in a particular order was frustrating and bothersome. The worst period was that stage where he was conscious enough to know what was going on but not really awake enough to process anything.

By the time that passed Jazz was already pushing at the sequences a little, and was relieved when his vision was allowed to come online. The first thing that he consciously noticed was the fact that he was laying on his front, a position that was not normal for him.

He tried to move, finding that his frame was starting to function, and grunted at the unfamiliar weight on his back. Information teased at his processor, something he should know, but he was distracted by a second weight pressing him down.

~Be still, love,~ Prowl's thoughts caressed him across the bond. ~The surgery went well, but you need to be still until the new protocols and sensors finish integrating.~

Surgery? Jazz's processor almost stalled for a moment before everything came back to him. The specialists, the surgery to graft sensory wings on his frame, and to install the processors and the systems that would allow him to control and utilize the new information they would provide.

He relaxed, calm since his mate was, and waited patiently for the new systems to boot for the first time. ~How do they look?~ He asked quietly over the bond.

A flare of intense _approval-lust-must touch_ tore across the bond, Prowl's efforts to hold it back crippled by the question. ~They, you, look _amazing_.~ Prowl's voice trembled slightly.

The surge of emotion sent a shudder through Jazz's frame, causing him to crane his neck around to look at his bonded. ~If I'd realized you would like them _this_ much I would have done this a long time ago. I-~

The rest of the comment was lost as the systems finished integrating and booted for the first time, flooding Jazz's senses and demanding all of his attention rather abruptly. The rush of information and input was enough to make his frame tremble again as his main processor fought to catch up with everything that the secondary processor and the direct line to the sensors were feeding him.

Suddenly his mate was there, in his processors with him. Not through the bond, but from a hardline connection that they had only shared a handful of times. Without a word Prowl gave gentle, firm direction on how to cope. What to shunt to secondary processors and what should be kept in his primary awareness.

Jazz grabbed on to the lifeline he had been thrown and held on firmly, following the directions without question and with more than a little relief.

Slowly things started to settle into place as data was sorted, processed, and organized at a manageable rate. The trembling eased until Jazz was able to consciously process what he was doing again and collapsed on to the berth. ~That was...intense.~ He finally managed, shaky even across the bond.

~Yes,~ Prowl smiled and unplugged now that he was sure his mate was okay. "In time, it will become a reflex. For the first few metacycles it will be an effort. In time you will be able to handle all but the most extreme of input as I do."

"Not soon enough." Jazz sighed, almost afraid to move again.

"No, it won't be," Prowl agreed, gently stroking Jazz's backstrut, but careful not to touch his new wings.

"Your entire upper structure will ache for at least a couple decaorns as well," Keepsafe's familiar voice spoke up from nearby. "Adding sensor wings is a great deal more than simply adding a bit of kibble. That is a significant amount of extra weight pulling on you that your protoform was never designed to take. It will also affect your balance even more than losing them affects a Praxian."

Jazz sighed softly. He had known that this wasn't going to be a pleasant process, but he hadn't realized that it was going to hit quite this hard. He reached out, seeking Prowl's hands with his own for the additional physical comfort that he had come to depend on.

~It will be all right, love,~ Prowl assured him. ~We planned this well. Nothing is expected of you for two metacycles.~

~Thank Primus.~ Jazz replied, daring to test the controls that allowed him to control the sensor wings and feeling them shift. It was a distinctly _odd_ feeling. Not painful, but disconcerting that the slightest change in the angle would change the input he received on multiple levels.

Several kliks passed in silence as he adjusted to that and let it settle before reaching out to Prowl again. ~Go ahead and touch love. Know you want to.~

~I do,~ he shivered in anticipation. One hand lifted from Jazz's backstrut to rest, almost painfully light, near the joint of Jazz's right wing.

Even as he thought to tell his mate he could do more the rush of sensations exploded across Jazz's awareness. Very distantly he was aware that if the original deluge was from _air_ , then something as solid as his mate's touch would be far more intense in the most pleasurable of ways.

Black hands grabbed the edge of the berth, anchoring him against the tide of sensation that threatened to overwhelm again. He hissed softly, relaxing slowly as the sound faded.

~Tell me when you are ready for me to move,~ Prowl said gently across the bond.

Jazz shivered again, settling himself before nodding. ~Go ahead love. Before Keepsafe makes us stop.~

The slow gentle glide of fingers over the new sensors sent shivers through his entire frame, but Jazz was ready for them this time, and the pleasurable touch was accepted and processed much quicker than anything so far.

Prowl chuckled softly and slid his hands along the leading edge from joint to tip, gently, sensually, the bond full of his desire for Jazz to experience what he had long given. His reward was a soft moan, the sensor wing under his touch quivering slightly. But the response over the bond made it every clear that Jazz was enjoying every bit of it.

~Feels very good love.~ Jazz sighed, actually relaxing a little more under the touch.

~Good,~ Prowl purred, running his hand the full length of the wing once more. Only this time he dipped clawtips into fine seams, seeking out the deeper sensor nodes to stimulate directly. It had been long vorns since he'd given a wing overload, but he still remembered how to.

His mate gasped, frame arching in response to the touch and cooling systems springing to life at the sudden stimulation. "Prowl!"

"Should I stop?" Prowl asked with a feigned innocence that no one believed.

The sensor wing pressed into Prowl's hand. Jazz's own action sent a shiver through his frame and a clear message to his mate. "No..." Jazz whimpered softly.

"Good," Prowl purred, a sound of pure seduction to Jazz. Knowing hands continued to move, teasing and tormenting even as the bond showed just how much he was enjoying giving the pleasure.

The soft sound of resigned annoyance came from nearby, but neither of the lovers cared. As long as she didn't directly order them to stop, Prowl had no intention of stopping.

~You are so incredible in pleasure,~ Prowl nearly moaned.

Jazz whined softly, arching into the pleasure and quivering with each new touch and sensation. The very small part of his processor that could still function on a higher level was in awe of what Prowl was doing to him.

~Feels so good.~ Jazz moaned, throwing the bond open wide so Prowl would know what he was doing, the input still so new and intense for Jazz that it bordered on pain.

~This is what you have provided to me for so long,~ Prowl cooed over the bond, his fingers working Jazz's new wings with the intent of triggering an overload before it felt like too much pain. ~They are well worth the risks.~

~Love...~ Jazz whimpered, frame shaking from the energy building rapidly in his systems. It exploded outward with a keen as Prowl found another seam and pushed his bonded into an entirely new pleasure.

Prowl simply purred and continued to stroke, his hands smoothing out to a more gentle caress as Jazz rode out his first wing overload. His bonded melted onto the berth, frame and wings going limp as Jazz processors shut down for a moment, many systems going through a soft reboot after being overwhelmed.

Awareness returned to Jazz with that sated sense of a good overload and the pleased hum across the bond as a tender kiss caressed his neck. ~I am pleased to finally be able to share that with you.~

"So if you're done, I would like to go over some things," Keepsafe said firmly. "He's not leaving until he can walk steadily and not tip over."

~Much different from feeling yours.~ Jazz observed, turning his helm to steal a kiss from his mate. ~Help me sit up? First step in making her happy and willing to release me, I think.~

~Yes,~ Prowl agreed to it all and offered a steady frame and helping hands for Jazz to roll his chassis backward until his aft was over his pedes, then shift sideways until his pedes were dangling over the edge and his aft firmly on the berth.

"That's a good start," Keepsafe hummed, stepping up Jazz's side. "I'm going to manipulate your wings. Tell me if it hurts."

Jazz nodded in understanding, shifting his wings for a moment before letting them settle into what felt like a comfortable rest position. He had to suppress a shudder at the first touch of her hands on his wings, just as intense as the first time he had been touched but much better managed.

It was a very different touch than his mate, especially when she began to move the appendages that Jazz was still having difficulty fully grasping were part of him. Up, down, back forward, in a circle, then ... "Unlock the fingers."

It took a moment of searching for Jazz to find the appropriate command, and then a few more to actually execute it. The shift in his own wings had him reeling a bit as the fingers unlocked and spread. He had _never_ anticipated that twenty percent of the sensor load was normally closed off inside the wings, only active when they fanned open like this.

Prowl's hands steadied him, and offered silent encouragement over the bond.

Then Keepsafe's fingers went over all the newly exposed surfaces. Her touch was precise and clinical, with none of the intent that Prowl's had when the Praxian had investigated Jazz's wings. None of those facts made it any less intense, and for a moment Jazz simply focused on his bonded's golden optics, locking on to them as a focus. ~How do you manage this?~

~I never quite went through _this_ ,~ Prowl admitted. ~I separated with my wings, carried by a Praxian. Like the coding for walking, I downloaded all this from my carrier, learned while I was still inside her and under construction. Do you remember how intense it was the first time I touched your spike? Now it still feels very good, but it's nowhere near that intense.~

Jazz grumbled softly, hands flexing where they touched Prowl as Keepsafe moved on to another section of wing. He had to smirk a little though. ~And why do I have the feeling that you are going to be more than willing to help me learn to manage this?~

~Because I am good to my bonded,~ Prowl purred, his tone teasing. ~The more you experience, the sooner you will be back to training and thus the sooner you can join me on campaign.~

~Want to be by your side always.~ Jazz said, turning his helm as he _sensed_ Keepsafe back away. "Time for me to try to walk?"

"If you believe you can," she nodded, another motion he was fairly sure he _felt_ at a distance.

She stepped out of the way as Jazz flexed the sensor wings several times before carefully sliding from the berth, maintaining his grip on his mate the entire time.

Standing was far different from being seated even, and Jazz had to hold on tighter for a moment as his equilibrium adjusted to the extra, still awkward weight on his back. Then there was an intense rush of information as protocols meant to assist him in close-quarters navigation completely overwhelmed his processors.

~Let it happen love,~ Prowl crooned softly, supporting and knowing exactly what his mate was experiencing when he wavered with white optics. ~The new processors will pick up the bulk soon.~

The mech in his arms grunted, all the response that Jazz could manage as he continued to navigate the roller-coaster of sensory input, processor fits, and the momentary weakness that always accompanied the other two leveling out.

He was very thankful that there were only two others in the small room as he attempted his first shaky steps, awkward and distinctly lacking in grace as he tried to process both the extra input and the added weight in a very awkward place. This was far worse than being sparkling-heavy.

Prowl remained at his side at first, steadying him the entire time and completely willing to catch him should he actually fall. He moved away slowly as Jazz managed to gain balance and confidence, shuffles giving away to actual strides and Jazz completed a full turn around the room before stopping to rest against a wall where Prowl finally joined him again. Strong arms embraced Jazz, the bond full of proud support and no small amount of lust at seeing those wings, on his mate, in motion.

~You are going to be so amazing when you are steady enough to dance again,~ Prowl purred into a tender, chaste kiss.

In his current state Jazz only groaned at the suggestion, though he leaned into the kiss willingly. Though as he thought about it the ability to dance again was something to master before he even thought about setting foot in the training room. 

~Not amazing now?~ He added with a mock pout, teasing his mate.

~You are _gorgeous_ now, love,~ Prowl chuckled. ~But part of your charm has always been your grace. I look forward to when you have it back.~

~Me too.~ He nuzzled at Prowl before looking over at Keepsafe. "Well?"

"If you promise not to leave your quarters without someone to help if you overstress yourself, you may finish your recovery in your quarters," she smiled warmly at the pair. "I know you'll recover better there, even if you'll be more active than I'd like."

"I won't leave without an escort. Too many lectures all around." Jazz grumbled, not yet having managed to forget the lecture he had received from one of his own mechlings when they felt he was pushing himself too hard so soon after being released when the twins separated.

He shifted his wings again, finding that he was starting to be able to control when and where he wanted to move them without being overwhelmed by the input they sent him in return. "Ready to help me stagger back?" He asked his mate.

"Always," Prowl purred, slipping an arm around his mate so Jazz could lean on him as they walked and look more like he was snuggling against Prowl's side than needing the support.

"I will be by a joor before lunch to check on your progress," Keepsafe told them.

The walk back went well enough, considering the fact that Jazz had to rely heavily on Prowl so he didn't flinch every time a new sensor reading appeared or someone passed them. By the time his mate opened the door to their quarters he was mentally exhausted again and on the verge of a processor ache just from trying to sort everything he wasn't used to.

No _wonder_ Praxians and Aerials were considered smarter than average. They _had_ to be just to cope with their sensor systems.

"Creators!" twin squeals of delight greeted them as their twins rushed from their room.

Jazz stood a little straighter, smiling as the pair launched themselves enthusiastically at them as the door closed. Only twenty vorns old, the pair were enough to run their caretakers ragged on a regular basis.

They rarely meant to cause trouble, only wanting to investigate the world around them with the curiousness of any sparkling. But the strong twin bond meant that when one found something of interest the other was rarely far behind.

"Sunstreaker. Sideswipe." Jazz had to choke back a laugh as the pair suddenly put on the brakes, twins sets of blue optics locked on their carrier.

"Wings!" Sideswipe gasped with a trill of fascination. "Carrier like Sire now?"

"A little." Jazz agreed, extending them carefully so that the sparklings could have a better look as they scrambled closer, feeling the fascination rolling across the creation bond from Sideswipe and the thoughtful evaluation from Sunstreaker.

"They're-" The comment broke into a gasp of shock, Jazz's hand clamping down on his mate's arm as _pain_ flared up the entire length of one wing, causing his whole frame to sway dangerously.

Startled by the reaction both sparklings bolted out of the way, optics bright with fright and Sunstreaker's with more than a little bit of distress.

Prowl's grip on his mate was tight, the bond supportive, but his focus was on the twins. "Your carrier is not yet used to them," he told the pair gently but firmly. "They can not take the kind of touching that mine can yet."

"Sorry." Sunstreaker apologized, approaching his carrier once more and looking at the wings with longing.

"It's all right bravespark." Jazz got himself under control once more and released his grip on Prowl to reach for the sparkling. It was an effort to raise the small frame but he managed, nuzzling Sunstreaker gently. "You can touch later, all right?"

Bright blue optics bobbed up and down as Sunstreaker nodded in agreement.

"Why are they so tender?" Sideswipe asked, cautiously investigating without touching.

"Because unlike your sire," Jazz answered, looking down from where he still had Sunstreaker cradled against his chest, "I did not separate with them. They are very new, and still healing."

That was the best word he could find to sum up what was happening as he learned to control the new processors, data sensors, and appendages. "I need time to get used to them."

"How long until they're all better?" Sideswipe asked, optics bright with fascination over the changes to his carrier.

"A little while." Jazz said, moving them cautiously again. "Do you like them?"

Both twins considered the question, the bond full of curiosity. "They're pretty," Sideswipe decided first. "You look different, but nice."

"Thank you." Jazz looked at Sunstreaker, waiting.

The small sparkling looked over his carrier's new wings, considering them very thoughtfully and with a seriousness his brother had never possessed. "I like them." He said slowly.

"Good," Prowl smiled, pleased that the twins would not find their carrier's new appearance disturbing. "Now please go back to playing with your caretakers. You can take your nap with him later. Jazz needs to rest."

"Don't need a nap." Sideswipe declared, taking off in the direction of their room and dodging around Steelplate from where the large mech had been watching from the doorway. With another nuzzle Jazz set Sunstreaker down, the sparkling following his twin at a slower pace, turning to look at his carrier several more times before he reached the room.

"You look quite dashing with wings," Steelplate smiled at his former charge. "Skysong's influence in you is much more apparent."

Jazz looked thoroughly pleased with that, beaming at his mentor and quivering with joy. "Thank you." He flexed them again.

It brought a small smile of pleasure to Prowl's features to have his mate so pleased. "Come to the berth," he nuzzled Jazz, gently trying to guide him to the berthroom. "You do need to rest."

"Rest?" Jazz repeated, snuggling against his mate as Steelplate retreated into the sparkling's rooms to help keep the curious creatures busy while their creators had some time to explore new things themselves.

~Eventually,~ Prowl chuckled, closing the door behind them and locking it against curious sparklings and mechlings who didn't think to knock first. ~For now, lay down on your front and let me _polish_ them.~

~Not going to do anything to make Keepsafe irritated with me, are you?~ Jazz teased as he obediently sprawled face down on the berth, limbs splayed comfortably.

After a moment of consideration he spread his sensor wings, fingers and all, on display for his mate. The sharp spike of _lust-desire-must touch_ from his mate made it well worth it.

~I will _try_ not to,~ Prowl forced himself to calm down as he got the polishing supplies and returned to the berth. ~Primus you look delectable.~

A quiver ran through Jazz's frame and down the length of his wings as well. He turned his helm to look at his mate, finally starting to realize just how attractive Prowl found wings.

~Yes, I do,~ Prowl purred as he settled across Jazz's hips. The supplies set to one side, he ran his hands up his mate's backstrut, seeking out tension and stress to sooth. By now he knew all of the most likely places, and found that even with the addition of wings they hadn't changed as his mate melted under the touch. Jazz's frame settled into peaceful relaxation, a state soon echoed in his field and across the bond.

With a smile Prowl picked up a polishing cloth and cleanser designed to lift all the small particles that accumulated and stayed more from static than adhesion. His hands moved smoothly, caressing with the intent to pleasure rather than arouse.

The first few strokes had Jazz shivering again, then he sighed and groaned, a sound that slipped into a continuous purr. ~Oh love...~

~Good,~ Prowl's own soft purr rose as he wiped Jazz's wings clean, then put the cloth aside for a fresh one and some polish. Just as before, he focused on gentle strokes that would pleasure without turning his mate on too much. If Jazz slipped into recharge while he worked, all the better.

~No wonder you're so willing to let me do this...~ Jazz murmured, awareness of anything but the proximity of his mate and soothing touch fading rapidly as his processors finally settled into a comfortable state.

~Yes, as good as it feels, there is trust involved as well,~ Prowl smiled as he worked, pleased as his mate's gentle decent into recharge. ~As you experienced, it is easy to cause great pain as well.~

~They know better now.~ Jazz murmured. ~I'll learn.~ His visor flickered, going dark as higher functioning began to shut down.


	23. Additions

Jazz strode silently into the main courtyard, senses casually taking in everything and posture relaxed. Looking around one would be able to tell that a rather noteworthy event was occurring this orn. Slaves, servants, and members of the House continued on their business, and only the fact that there seemed to be a great deal of attention being focused on the main gate by those who had a legitimate reason or had simply created one to pass by it would have seemed odd.

Flexing his sensor wings, Jazz allowed them to settle. After three centuries the additions were almost as much a part of him as if he had separated with them, fully integrated and a near vital component of his functioning. He hadn't missed the subtle changes in how some reacted to him now that he _looked_ like one of the House. Having sensory horns instead of a chevron was unusual but not unknown. The wings though, they made him look like he _belonged_ here. It was a fact his twins had both worked out very quickly and had requested for themselves within a vorn of when he'd come home with them.

Noise and motion demanded his attention, the small procession making its way through the House's main gate was larger than Jazz had been expecting, until he remembered who they were dealing with. Idly he wondered what House Tradewind hoped to gain with the small show, the merchant Lord as calculating as Prowl in battle when it came to matters of appearance and business. The thought was put aside for later consideration just as quickly as Jazz stepped forward to greet the femme who was to be his Lord's seconded bonded.

She was not the one they had originally negotiated for, but the House of Tradewind had been greatly shamed when it was discovered that not only was Songnote far from untouched, she had carried all the way to separation a creation with a lower-status lover. Prowl did not personally care, but his position and the nature of the contract demanded another be substituted.

Thus they had waited an additional two hundred and thirty vorns for this femme to mature to her mechling stage and be physically ready to be offered for bonding.

Jazz nodded in acknowledgement of the mech leading the procession before turning his attention to the slender femme in the middle of the procession. "Welcome to the House of Shining Sun, Stardancer."

He could tell by the flutter of her sensor wings that the mode and tone he had chosen had startled her a little, and he had to hide a smile at her careful response, so very much like his own so many centuries ago.

"I am welcomed, First Bonded. All honor the Lord Prowl and the House." Everything from the spread and tilt of her wings to the deeply bowed head spoke of sincerity, respect, and more than a little fear.

This time Jazz hid his surprise, and his frown. The first two were perfectly acceptable. The last was to be expected, but not on the level that he was sensing. He kept his own mood and field light and welcoming, wings canted in friendly greeting that she would recognize as he had not when he first arrived. "You're escort will be seen to, if you would follow me."

She hesitated, but her guardian stepped forward, between Jazz and his charge. The situation gave him more authority and boldness than normal conditions allowed. "First Bonded of the House of the Shinning Sun, I am Targetlock, Guardian of the Lady Stardancer. Jasper," he motioned to a slender minibot femme of indeterminate origins that stood at Stardancer's side, "is the Lady Stardancer's personal slave."

"And you are also welcome in the House." Jazz answered, nodding in understanding and formal acknowledgement. "You will be staying with her?"

He already knew the answer, of course. The answers to the questions being asked were already known. It was simply another dance of formality to be observed until both parties could relax.

"Yes, First Bonded," Targetlock said with formal politeness.

Jazz was sure he was no brighter than the average Praxian tank-frame, but he had been well-trained for his duties as her guardian.

"Then if Lady Stardancer is willing I will show you all your rooms." Jazz suggested, making sure to include her guardian and her companion this time. "I'm sure you would like some time to touch up before the evening meal."

"Yes, First Bonded. Thank you." Stardancer murmured, though she still looked to Targetlock before she moved to follow him.

All three new mecha were quiet but observant with different levels of obviousness. Targetlock in particular made no secret that he was looking at everything and everyone; it was his function after all and often the best deterrent to trouble was the obvious kind.

He loomed over Stardancer, close on her heels and almost glaring at anyone who came a little too close.

Her slave, in contrast, was almost invisible. Jazz made a note to find out a little more about her, her background and how and why she had found herself in the position that she was in.

He led them through the main section of the House, moving slow enough to allow time for them to get a feel for House, its energy and life.

"The door will open to all of you." He informed them as he triggered the entrance to the suite of rooms that were to be Stardancer's until the official bonding. "It will also open to anyone with the proper override codes."

"Who has those codes, First Bonded?" Targetlock focused on what mattered to him.

"Lord Prowl and myself." Jazz answered leading the way into the suite and then stepping aside. "As well as Evening Bronze, the servant assigned to see to Lady Stardancer's needs, the security chief and the House medic."

The giant Praxian tank nodded and quietly slipped away to study the basics of the suite's four other doors, trusting Lord Jazz and Jasper to keep his charge untouched for the few kliks he'd take.

Jazz took the chance to look the small Praxian femme over again. Her gray and gold coloration was quite striking, the white accents on her sensor wings making them stand out even more. "Stardancer?"

He had her total attention in a spark pulse. "Yes, First Bonded?"

Jazz offered her a gentle smile. "Jazz will do just fine in private. In the House as well, for that matter."

There was a flicker in the femme's optics as she looked at him, wary and unsure. "Yes...Jazz."

"If you give Prowl a chance, he's a very good mate," he said gently. "I was not eager to be here when I arrived. He proved all my fears wrong."

The same small quiver ran through her frame, most visible in her wings. "The House was thankful that Lord Prowl was wiling to forgive the House my sister's transgression and accept me in her place. I desire to please him." She admitted.

"I have no doubt you will please him," Jazz reassured her. "Despite the complexity of his function, he is a relatively simple mech to please. Do you _like_ sparklings?"

"I have been taught how to care for them." She answered, helm tilting to the side and a softer light coming into her optics. "I did enjoy the time I was allowed to spend in the nursery helping."

Jazz's own smile warmed a bit more as he twitched his wings in warm approval. "Why don't we sit and talk a time?" he motioned to a couple of comfortable chairs, two of a set of three arranged for intimate conversation. "What is your favorite confection?"

She still circled him like a wary cyber-kitten, optics confused as she settled in the seat and answered the question. "Granite bars. The kind with the oil base between the layers to hold them together."

Her wings pulled in close her to frame and she watched him the entire time, not twitching as Jasper took a place behind her lady's chair.

Jazz sent a comm ping to Evening Bronze with the order and settled in a second chair. He was close enough that if they spread their wings they could easily touch, but if they held them relaxed their fields were at a polite distance.

"Will you tell me what you are afraid of?" He asked gently.

The slight flutter of her wings, the young femme caught between wanting to answer the question and a fear of answering it at the same time. She hung her helm, optics refusing to meet his.

"You."

She teeked the surprise as his field flared, honest and very confused, before he tempered the reaction. 

"Me?" He repeated softly. "What have I done to frighten you?"

"You're First Bonded and First Chosen." She said, as though that summed up and explained everything.

A bewildered expression settled on Jazz's features for a moment before it hit him. Another flare of surprise, this time confined to his wings, then a sad expression. "I could make this very hard for you, couldn't I?" he murmured as if the thought had just occurred to him, which on many levels it had. "Stardancer, please listen to me. Prowl values a content, happy home _very_ much. That's why he's put so much emphasis on my approval of his new bonded. A happy home doesn't mean that just I'm happy. You need to be happy too, and he expects me to help that happen."

There was a moment of hesitation, Stardancer's wings pulling in close to her frame as her optics lifted to meet Jazz's soft blue visor. For a long moment she stared, just thinking, before she nodded in understanding.

"I want to be happy." She admitted quietly. She had been raised for this, trained for this, pointed in this direction, since she was old enough to understand what her purpose was in functioning. "I don't know what else to do."

A relieved and very pleased smile bloomed across Jazz's features. "You'll grow into your place here," he assured here. "Much as I did. I knew far less about being the bonded of a powerful Lord when I arrived than you do now. All I knew is that all my expectations for my existence had been abruptly taken from me; I was no longer to be a warrior like my sire, but sent very far away to carry sparklings for a mech I only heard stories of. There was no secret that all he needed a bonded for was to have the heir required to keep the succession uncontested, or that he was a cold, brutal General with no use for romance. As angry and frightened as I was, he took his time to make me comfortable, get to know me, convince me that even though bonding wasn't by his choice and the contract signed without us ever seeing each other, or even speaking, he wanted a _mate_ , someone who loved him and wanted to be with him. He wants the same thing with you."

She stared at him as she tried to process all of that, plainly bewildered. "You were not intended to be Lord Prowl's first bonded?"

Jazz shook his helm. "No, I was to be a warrior, like my sire. My House was a small one, even by Simfur standards, and my sire only the first Lord. As the youngest creation, with my eldest brother with many creations by the time I was kindled, there was no expectation I would be political or bonded to advantage to the House. I was left to choose what I wished to be, and I wished to be like my sire. Then one orn I was told I was to be sent to Praxus to be General Prowl's bonded and produce sparklings for him. Less than four metacycles later I was carrying Bladesinger. It was less than a desirable situation for both of us, but at least he'd known it was coming with someone for a few vorns."

"But now you are happy here." She concluded softly, the edge of fear and tension finally easing away some.

"Very happy," he nodded. "Prowl's even supported me in continuing my warrior training so I can join him on campaign."

"The House of Shining Sun is a House of warriors." She said, as though what Jazz had told her made the utmost sense. There was a moment of silence, then she reached out, the edge of her EM field just brushing against Jazz's.

It had the feel of a shy youngling trying to make a new friend and asking, hoping, that the other person was interested as well.

"It is," Jazz smiled and gave a friendly cant to his wings while his field reached back, welcoming her and offering more contact if she wished it.

With a small flutter of her wings she accepted, relaxing more to mingle and mix with his. "When will I meet Lord Prowl?"

"A joor before dinner. He is seeing to his duties now," Jazz explained. "Would you like to meet our youngest?"

"Please." There was a note of eagerness in the request now, optics lighting once again at the mention of the sparkling.

::You may enter with Lightbeam when ready,:: Jazz commed Evening Bronze. "He's coming with Evening Bronze. Were you given time to explore any hobbies?"

"Dancing." Stardancer admitted with another flutter of her wings, the topic clearly something that she truly enjoyed. "I was never allowed to perform, but I was encouraged to pursue my hobby when there was spare time. My carrier even found tutors for me."

She was interrupted by the opening of the door to the suite, and the appearance of a Praxian framed femme, covered tray in hand and a sparkling at her side. 

"Carrier." He greeted Jazz as soon as he caught sight of his creator, small sensor wing flaps fluttering happily on his back. He bounded from Evening Bronze's side as Jazz leaned down and held out his arms, sweeping the sparkling up into his lap with ease and nuzzling the small helm.

Evening Bronze smiled and smoothly stepped around the back of Jazz's chair to set the tray she was carrying on a small table between them. When the lid was lifted there was a collection of a half dozen confections; jelly filled, powdered rust sticks of several flavors and the granite bars Stardancer had described.

"If they aren't exactly what you remember, the chefs here _adore_ a challenge," Jazz smiled as he picked of a rust stick with a hard center and aluminum dust to give Lightbeam. "They did a great job recreating some of my favorites from home, and that's well outside their normal range."

Lightbeam took it with a small chirr of glee, curling comfortably against his creator's chestplates and sucking contentedly on the treat as he studied the femme seated across from him with the innocent, open curiosity only a sparkling could manage.

"I'll remember that." Stardancer promised as she smiled at the sparkling before lifting one of the treat bars and taking a delicate bite out of the corner. From the way her optics lit it was clear that even if they were not what she remembered she was thoroughly enjoying the confection.

Jazz smiled at her reaction, noted that Evening Bronze had silently made herself as unobtrusive as her finish permitted and focused on Stardancer once more.

"This is Lightbeam," He said by way of introduction, shifting the sparkling a little so that Stardancer could have a clear view. Even at his young age Lightbeam's frame was showing all the signs of maturing into a strong Praxian grounder. White and bold yellow coloration already tinted his developing armor, shadows of black highlights shading the edges. Small sensor wing flaps fluttered in contentment at being settled in his carrier's arms with a treat.

Looking closely the only clear features Stardancer could see in the sparkling that linked him to Jazz were the smaller nubs of sensory horns on his helm and the visor already shielding the little one's gaze, though it glowed a soft gold more in line with his sire.

"Say hello to Stardancer, lightspark." Jazz prompted gently. "She is going to come live with us."

"Hello." Lightbeam chirped obediently, glancing up at his carrier. "Why?"

"She will be bonding to Prowl," Jazz explained. "You're going to have a little sibling soon."

Lightbeam considered that, touching Jazz's chest curiously.

He smiled and rubbed his youngest's sensor horn nubs. "Not for many more vorns. Stardancer will carry your next sibling."

Understanding made the little one's visor flare, and he chirped another welcome to the femme before settling down to focus on his treat.

"Perhaps we can put on a small show for Prowl tonight, after dinner? I sing, you dance. What kind of dancing do you enjoy?" Jazz suggested.

"Almost anything." Stardancer replied as she finished off the confection, just stopping herself from licking her fingers clean in clear pleasure. She considered the question more thoroughly as she accepted the offered cloth and cleaned her hands. "I like music with a strong beat to dance to, though my creators tried to encourage my interest to the more...'graceful' forms."

"Club music?" Jazz perked up, his wings expressing his delight in that shared interest. "You'll find that a common interest around here among the warriors. Most know the formal dances, but we _enjoy_ letting loose to the beat."

There was a matching light in Stardancer's optics. "Yes, club type dancing. Much to my carrier's despair. I _do_ know all of the formal dances as well."

"That's good to know," Jazz grinned at her. "I had to learn them here, much to my despair. The few I knew were those of Simfur, not Praxus. I fear I was sorely lacking in political skills when I arrived. After things have settled, I can show you the good clubs in the area that no one who matters will object to you visiting."

"I look forward to it." The femme smiled, optics turning to the tray once more as she gave in and helped herself to another confection after Jazz had snagged a couple jelly-filled ones for himself.

Jazz hummed, then smiled a little shyly. "Have you ever thought about interfacing much?"

The emotion that flickered through Stardancer's field and across her face was a mix of interest, curiosity, and hesitation. "Some." She admitted, shy and skittish on the topic. "But after what my sister did...."

"Safer not to admit to it," he finished easily. "You're going to be with the mech you are _supposed_ to desire within the joor. You don't need to hide your interest anymore. I suspect Prowl would appreciate someone who's more ... explorative than I am."

Metallic edged sensor wings twitched in embarrassment, fluttering out before being pulled close to her frame as Stardancer smiled at Jazz. "I have heard stories of Lord Prowl's...interests."

"I'm sure," he chuckled. "Most are true too, at least that I've heard of. He does really get off on breaking seals, especially a valve seal. He prefers his lover to overload first, or at least with him. If you enjoy spiking as well as being spiked, he loves taking it too."

"I'm sure I'll find out. It will be nice too, to not be constantly watched..." The look she gave him was full of hope.

"There's more scrutiny that I was used to, especially that first time I was carrying, and the first time I was carrying when he was on campaign," Jazz warned her gently. "Though I suspect it's nothing compared to what you're used to. After the first sparkling that settles the contract, as long as Prowl is content that a given sparkling is his and claims it, it's unlikely to be an issue. Though if you do fall in love with someone here, don't keep it from him," he turned serious. "Obviously you can't bond to someone else, but Prowl is a reasonable mecha as long as you're honest with him. He'll be far angrier with a secret kept than anything else."

Stardancer seemed more than a little startled by that revelation, but nodded in understanding. "I have no desire to lie." She murmured.

"That's good," Jazz smiled gently at her. "I noticed that about your sister. It was a reason I liked her. She preferred incriminating silence to a lie. I may not have gotten all the answers from her, but I knew what I did get I could trust." He paused, considering her. "Were you brought up to lead this House during war-time, when Prowl and I are away?"

Jazz could see Stardancer considering her answer carefully before she spoke. "I have received training in _managing_ a House under such circumstances. But if an actual attack were to be mounted against the House's location...I am not a warrior, nor do I think like one."

"That is understood, and it is not expected for you to be a warrior. One of Prowl's brothers will be in charge of any military action required," Jazz assured her. "What I was looking for is if you understood the _very_ difficult rules this place is under when Prowl is called on. While there is likely to be at least one more conflict before I finish training, as a warrior-bonded I am expected to go with him when my training is complete. That would leave you to manage what is here."

Her confidence settled once it was clear that she would not really be expected to direct or participate in a combat situation, and she nodded. "I can do that."

"Good," Jazz relaxed and popped another small jelly filled confection into his mouth, chewing so it burst and coated his glossa with the sticky energon. "Do you like to do anything other than dancing?"

"Reading." Stardancer answered as she worked her way slowly through another granite bar, savoring each small bite. She looked slightly sheepish as she admitted her preferred genres. "Mostly novels. Romance, action, the occasional history, even though I know they are often factually inaccurate."

Jazz grinned his understanding. "No shame in enjoying fiction, even if it's a bit beyond Prowl why anyone would. Part of the down side of having such a heavily integrated tactical computer and logic chips. He'll never object to your choice of reading, or even writing if you like it, but he'll never _get_ it. For him, reality is far more complex and fascinating than any fiction."

The small femme chuckled softly. "That sounds like one of my brothers. He never understood why I liked to read, when far more fascinating things happened in orn to orn functioning. If I wanted interesting stories all I needed to do was watched the ornly news broadcasts."

She shifted in her seat, drawing her legs under her as her wings relaxed in a more comfortable position and smirked. "Of course, he could also never understand why one of our younger siblings occasionally managed to beat him when we all played games together in the evenings."

"What games do you like?" Jazz visibly perked up at the reminder of one of his favorite activities with Prowl.

"Swords and Shields, Lords." She said, naming a simple strategy game and much more complex management game. "Energon Lane, if I was playing with the little ones. Sometimes if we knew Sire wasn't around the older ones would play games of chance. Sire doesn't approve of that sort of gambling."

"Energon Lane!" Lightbeam chirped in excitement.

"Prowl doesn't either, but he's never spoken against it so long as the bets can be lost without hurting the House and no one goes into debt," Jazz smiled. "We tend to play Sovereign. It'll be nice to play a simpler game and not feel like I'm boring him out of his processors. I can't say I've played Lords. Economics aren't really my thing."

"They aren't entirely mine either, but I had a better chance with those than I did with Sovereign or any of the complex strategy games." She admitted, earning a chuckle from Jazz.

"It'll still be true, unfortunately," he grinned a bit ruefully. "There's a down side to playing against Prowl. Even when he's playing to relax, he still plays to win and there are few mecha who can beat him at anything that involves rules and strategy. It's his thing. Would you like to play while we talk and snack, or would you prefer some time to settle in and clean up?"

"I should probably clean up for the evening, if I am expected. But afterward..." She looked at Jazz hopefully, the shift in her very noticeable from when she first arrived.

"I would love to play a game or three," he smiled warmly and nudged Lightbeam to get off his lap. He databurst his comm code as he stood with a smooth, relaxed and pleased grace. "Ping me when you're ready to play?"

"Yes, thank you." Stardancer answered, rising smoothly out of respect and canting her wings in a manner that matched her words. "I look forward to it."

Jazz inclined his helm to her and ushered his youngest creation out before taking him back to their quarters. ~I can feel it, you want a report already, don't you?~ he teased his mate.

~Of course I do. Despite the contract requirements, to reject her would be _complicated_.~

Jazz left his youngest in Steelplate's care and made his way to his mate's office, the door opening before his code and sliding shut behind him smoothly.

Without pause Jazz crossed the room, coming around behind his mate and starting to rub his mate's wings with gentle strokes as he leaned down to kiss the back of Prowl's neck. "Complicated?" He repeated with a smile.

"Yes, politically complicated," Prowl hummed softly as his wings pressed into the contact and his field reached out to embrace his mate. "To reject a second one in the same contract is not a good thing to do, even if the first was withdrawn more than rejected."

"The poor child is intimidated by you and was initially terrified of me." Jazz informed first and foremost.

"Terrified of _you_?" Prowl glance up and over his shoulder with a flicker of surprise.

"She's very intelligent love. And I think she's seen more than she would admit. She is _very_ aware of the fact that I could make her functioning a terrible one if I was inclined to." Jazz explained quietly.

"Has she grasped that you are not inclined to, or that I would not tolerate it even if you were?" Prowl asked with a flicker of unease at having to devote the resources to winning over _another_ mate. At least he had always found Jazz attractive and was drawn to the mech's wit and fire. He wasn't nearly as drawn to Stardancer.

"We are to get together and play a board game this evening before dinner. I think I will see of she will teach me to play Lords. Since it was one of the first that she mentioned I would assume that it is one she prefers. And as for you..." Jazz nuzzled at his mate until Prowl allowed him a light kiss. "I think her feelings towards you have been heavily influenced by outside opinion and will change as she actually gets to know _you_ , much as mine did."

"I would not doubt that," Prowl relaxed further into the gentle attention to his wings and the affection of his mate being so close. "Her opinion of interfacing and sparklings?"

"Curious and willing to the first, I think. After what Songnote did she has been watched closer than a turbohawk locked on its next meal. As for sparklings...when I mentioned them she indicated that she liked them, and she did seem drawn to Lightbeam when he joined us."

Prowl nodded his understanding, his field expressing his relief at both answers. "Then there is nothing that you find objectionable about her yet?"

"No." Jazz shrugged a little as he leaned against his mate, talking advantage of the moment to enjoy the frame to frame contact. "She's young, but there is plenty of potential there, I think."

"Good," Prowl purred at the contact and the news. He reached up to gently rub a sensor horn. "Do you think you would be agreeable to warming her up by giving her a show, let her see what a good interface is like?"

Jazz was purring to the point his entire frame was vibrating as he melted against his mate, helm leaning into the contact. "Sounds like a lot of fun. What did you have in mind?"

Prowl hummed, purring at the reaction his mate gave to the simple attention. "I thought to start with your wings, move on to sucking you off, then driving my spike deep into you while we make out. A solid preview of what I plan to do to her."

Desire at the mere suggestion surged across the bond. Desire that had been very lacking when they had first met, and Prowl had carefully cultivated into a _very_ willing lover and mate. "I think she is in for quite the show."

"Oh, I very much agree," Prowl rumbled, twisting and pushing his chair back while he pulled his mate into his lap for a searing kiss. "But right now, I want you against my desk."

~A warm-up for us?~ Jazz teased, clearly eager as he rubbed against his mate, giving up speaking out loud in favor of deepening the kiss.

~Or simply indulging in the mech I love,~ Prowl shivered at the intensity of the emotions between them and how much more pleasurable it made _everything_. ~I will _never_ tire of watching you overload, or the looks I get when you come to a meal just a little dazed.~

A whine of _want_ and _need_ escaped Jazz as a shudder ran through his frame, echoing the intense emotions rolling from his mate. ~Yours. Only yours. Always.~ He swore again from his very spark.

They were a team, a match made by Primus some swore for the way they had settled into complimenting and completing each other.

~Then open for me,~ Prowl purred, still deep in the kiss as he settled Jazz on his back on the desk. Prowl's spike slid from its housing and pressurized against Jazz's valve cover, eager for entry and the mutual pleasure it promised.

A moan of eager anticipation escaped Jazz as he obeyed, sensor wings splaying flat on the solid surface as hips tilted in welcome and invitation. ~Always~ He repeated, moaning into the kiss as the familiar spike pressed into his welcoming heat. Even that first slid hit all the right places with just the right pressure, guided by a powerful processor that never forgot anything it was exposed to.

~This pleasure will always be for you,~ Prowl moaned, his frame trembling at the pleasure as it cascaded through his systems with each thrust that slid his spike in and out of the welcoming slick tightness.

It was a reminder that Jazz still needed and welcomed. That he was first. That Prowl loved him, loved him for who he was and the bond they had worked so hard to build.

His valve rippled and clenched at the thick spike with every thrust and wave of pleasure that echoed between them. He was wanted. He was needed. He desired Prowl, his mate, above all others. Needed the mecha taking him more than anything else.

His frame arched off the desk, pressing against Prowl's as his systems started to whine from the excess of energy driven by desire. ~Mine.~

~Yours, always,~ Prowl moaned across the wide-open bond, full of the truth that even though Prowl took pleasure with others, none were Jazz and Prowl felt the difference. Not because Jazz had the most skill, but because Prowl was invested in Jazz and what they had together.

With a keen of pleasure Jazz gave in to the rush of energy pushing at his frame, wings flaring as his frame locked and sending most of his mate's current project tumbling to the floor.

Prowl couldn't care less at the moment as he reveled in the pleasure he'd caused and the pleasure feeding back into his systems. One thrust into that quivering, flexing valve, then a second and he curled forward, his wings flaring out with a rumbling roar of pure, blissful release.

A release they rode out together as it echoed between them, shifting across the bond and their physical frames and leaving Jazz to groan contentedly as his frame slowly relaxed.

As his coordination returned Jazz lifted himself enough to nuzzle at his mate's helm and whisper "Love you."

~Love you too,~ Prowl murmured in reply, content to relax on top of his mate for a time, his spike still buried deep and enjoying the lingering twitches and pressure of his transfluid in the tight space. ~You'll always be my first love.~

Emotion flowed across the bond in answer to his words. Love and devotion and joy as Jazz lay there, peaceful and content until Prowl was ready to move. ~Thank you.~

* * *

Stardancer settled in her chair with a quite word of thanks as it was pushed to the table, watching out of the corner of her optic as Lord Prowl circled around to where Jazz was already seated and setting up the board for a game of Swords and Shields. He had defeated her quite soundly in their before dinner match, but she had learned some of his style of play and refused when he had offered to let her choose another game.

The Lord settled behind his mate, and Stardancer took advantage of the moment to let her processor wander some as she observed them. Dinner had been an interesting affair, insight into a lifestyle that was very foreign to her. A small affair, the meal had initially been a time of business conversation concerning the affairs of the House, what had occurred that orn, and planning for the next.

She had almost choked on her energon the first time that someone had dared to disagree with Lord Prowl on a matter, and had watched in shock as the Lord calmly listened to the argument against his proposal, agreed with some of it, and altered his plan to take into account the new information.

Jazz had noted her reaction and taken the advantage to lean over and speak softly in her audio. "The good of the House comes first. Prowl would rather you say something and him overrule it than you not speak when the matter is one of potential importance. Don't _argue_ with him, but don't be afraid to voice opinions and ideas either."

It was all she could do to nod in mute agreement, pondering this new idea as she helped herself to the platter of solids in front of her.

"First move is yours." Jazz's friendly voice interrupted her thoughts, refocusing her attention on the prepared board spread out before them.

Sensor wings flickered in apology as she ducked her helm for a moment, barely meeting his optic band and only relaxing as his field reached out to brush against hers, full of friendly amusement. "Thank you." She murmured, nudging her first piece into play and setting back to await his answer.

It wasn't lost on her that Prowl was watching the game intently, though she knew from Jazz that Sovereign was almost too simple for him to play when he was fully focused. Swords and Shields was almost too simple for him to grasp playing. Literally in the first nanoklik of the board being set up, he knew every possible move, every possible counter-move and every strategy that could be used ... and that was when he _wasn't_ focused on it. The ability made him one of the finest tactical processors in history, but she could also see how it could make existence painfully lonely when it couldn't be turned off.

An easy calm settled over the scene as everyone relaxed, several rounds of moves and counter moves taking place before Jazz claimed one of her pieces and spoke. "So what did you think of dinner?"

Stardancer took her time, considering the board before making a move that protected her piece in play and advanced her up the board. "It was very different. The evening meal at home is a much more...elaborate...occasion most orns."

"And far less about the practical aspects of running a House?" Prowl surmised, one hand moving over to slide teasingly along the top edge of Jazz's near sensor wing. "I noticed your reaction when Kriemahni spoke up."

"Far less about the running of the House, and much more about the importance of the House, and image of the House, and how to act in social situations." Stardancer agreed, momentarily distracted by the motion of Prowl's hand and the subtle twitch of Jazz's sensor wing at the touch. "It was a time of education, and a full family affair."

"Full family?" Jazz repeated, making a move that claimed another piece and flicking his wing at his mate.

"Yes. Creators, often some extended family, and all of us creations. And proper manners." Stardancer elaborated.

"While here, I dare say everything is of a more practical bent," Prowl said with easy acceptance as he slid his fingers along Jazz's wing once more. "We know how to behave, and those who are political spend extra time ensuring our manners are acceptable, but as a House that has always been lead by front-line Generals we are far less about appearances and playing nice to retain our power. Our value to the City and Prime is in our ability to destroy those we are called on to eliminate."

"You may have noticed that mecha tend to try to play nice to us more often than the other way around." Jazz commented, helm tilted slightly to the side as he studied the board.

"I have noticed that." Stardancer admitted, field flaring slightly in triumph as she managed to claim one of Jazz's pieces, placing it on her side of the board in counterpoint to the three of hers that he already possessed. She watched as Jazz made his next move, and then picked up a piece, fingering it thoughtfully but really focusing on Prowl. "May I ask what will be expected of me, my Lord?"

"Of course," he tilted his wings encouragingly. "At a minimum I expect you not to shame or harm the House, carry a single sparkling of mine to fulfill the contract with your former House and not cause distress in my home."

The piece she was holding was placed back on the board, only to be lost with another when Jazz made a clean sweep of that section and she frowned. Jazz had warned her that _Prowl_ played to win, but had failed to mention that he was just as ruthless as his mate when it came to games.

~That _is_ rather distracting love.~ Jazz grumbled playfully as fingers traced along his wing, self control just keeping Jazz from actually moving it out of reach as Stardancer managed to claim another one of his pieces and looked at Prowl again.

~That is the purpose of it,~ Prowl chuckled across the bond as his fingers found the wing joint. ~She needs an advantage, and I never tire of winding you up.~

Jazz growled softly, wing pressing into the touch as he swept another piece from the board. The small femme across from his jumped at the sound before she focused on what Prowl was doing his mate and her optics lit in understanding. "And is that all you want of me, my Lord?"

Prowl hummed as he moved directly behind Jazz to use both hands equally on both wings spread before him. "That is all I demand of you," he said as he leaned forward to brush his lips against a sensor horn. "I wish you to be happy and productive here. All mecha, particularly those who are not warriors, have skills that are not common in a House such as this one. I would like you to acquire the skills to manage this House during wartime. I wish a happy home."

Jazz quivered under his mate's touch. ~You wish me to forfeit the game to her, at this rate.~

~If you wish to be in my lap so badly, I will not object,~ Prowl purred around Jazz's horn.

Jazz moaned, startling Stardancer as Prowl's glossa swirled around the sensor horn. ~Very much want so. And at this rate she is going to beat me.~

~Care to try to play while on my lap?~ Prowl offered teasingly, seductively, his own arousal hot across the bond.

~Are you going to let me try to play?~ Jazz countered, throwing a move on the board as he stood slowly, shifting to allow Prowl the chair in answer to the question and the rising desire.

He could feel Stardancer's optics on them, and offered her a smirk. He had confirmed the rumors that she had heard of the mech, and now she was going to be able to witness them firsthand.

~No,~ Prowl growled as he sat and pulled Jazz into his lap, facing him, for an intense kiss while his hands came around to work Jazz's wing joints. ~You're too hot.~

~And whose fault is that?~ Jazz countered, game and audience forgotten as he leaned into the kiss, hands stroking down Prowl's sides to tease at transformation seams and joints.

~Yours, for being so tempting,~ Prowl rumbled, tightening his fingers into wing joints and thrusting his field deep into his mate. ~Never want that to change.~

~Don't want to change, 'cept to make you happy.~ Jazz answered, frame arching and rubbing against Prowl, creating friction to match the sparks of charge starting to dance over his plating and tickle at Prowl's.

~You make me happy,~ Prowl moaned as his mouth found Jazz's neck to mouth and nibble between kisses. ~Love how good you feel, how you make me _feel_.~

~Feel...how?~ Jazz moaned, so close to the edge and fighting to hold on, to feel the pleasure that was his mate for just a little longer, to make the moment when it came that much sweeter.

Instead of words, Prowl shared the sensations of what had changed inside him since he began to _love_ Jazz.

It was too much for Jazz to resist, keening softly as his sensor wings flared to their full span and fluttered violently, quivering with the energy that crackled over him as his lips found his mate's. The passion, pleasure and emotions echoed back and forth, leaving Jazz nearly strutless in Prowl's lap and Prowl all but quivering on the edge of overload himself.

Jazz lay pressed against him, Prowl's frame and arms doing most of the work in holding him up as he savored being wrapped in his mate's embrace and the pleasure still licking at his frame.

After a klik he gathered himself enough to nuzzle at Prowl's neck, field reaching out to push teasingly against Prowl's. ~Do I need to finish taking care of that for you, or should we see if she is interested?~

Prowl didn't even have time to fully process the question before his frame answered for him. His spike cover slid open and the sensitive length quickly pressurized between them. ~Please,~ he moaned, trembling in desire to feel his mate around him.

Jazz leaned forward, lips meeting Prowl's in a deeply possessive kiss before tracing their way down the Praxian's frame. Touching, teasing, but only enough to heighten the desire and not to frustrate before Jazz was on his knees before his mate, shivering with his own desire and anticipation. He was only distantly aware that Prowl had pushed his chair back, not just to give Jazz room, but to provide a better view for Stardancer.

~Love you.~ Jazz whispered across the bond as one hand came up to stroke and squeeze the base of the quivering spike and willing lips sealed around the head. Above him Prowl gasped, then moaned deeply as his helm fell back at the sensations rushing through his frame. Strong white hands came up to Jazz's helm, not to capture or guide, but to rub the sensor horns in a half-blind effort to share the pleasure being given.

At the first touches Jazz froze, reading his mate's intention in a nanosecond, and started to purr at the soothing touches. Vibration and sound joined the movement of his lips and glossa on the spike, starting at the head and finding every ridge and sensor node as he worked his way down, slowly taking the length deeper.

Another gasp devolved into a trembling moan as Prowl fought to hold his hips still and give full control to his mate, even though they both knew it was futile. It would, however, give Jazz time to enjoy the building pleasure and a few kliks of control over Prowl, something they both got off on on occasion.

Stardancer's optics were glued to the show taking place in front of her. On some level she was sure it was for her benefit too, but on another level it was a new insight into the depth of the bond that existed between the pair.

It was Lord and Chosen. It was Lord and Bonded. But even deeper than that it was _lovers_ and _mates_ who were willing for the simple reason that it brought pleasure to someone they cared deeply for.

She watched as Jazz's wings fanned wide as his lips closed around the base of the thick spike, hand falling to rest on Prowl's thigh as Jazz continued to purr and did _something_ that left Prowl gasping and moaning all over again. She could feel the charge building inside her, her interface equipment pinging for full activation, almost pleading to be touched as she watched what was _possible_ with the mecha she was to bond to.

If she could earn even some of the affection on display now she'd be in paradise. It was entirely too enticing a dream to dangle in front of her.

With a slow, deliberate motion Jazz pulled back, working his glossa along the sensitive underside of the large spike as his hands began to knead and work their way into hip joints, seeking the sensory receptors that always seemed to pull the most enticing sounds from his mate when worked just right with attention to his spike.

Prowl's frame stiffened with a gasping cry, his wings fanning out with the fingers fully spread as his hips jerked upward, seeking the mouth that gave so much pleasure.

Pleasure surged across the bond as his reaction, Jazz both pleased and proud of the reaction of his mate as he shifted, taking the spike again deeply as Prowl moved. He didn't do this often for Prowl, which in a way made it all the better when he did. He focused, bringing everything he knew made Prowl gasp, tremble or moan to bear all at once on the Praxian seated before him. Over the bond he felt the warning, the best his mate could offer so Jazz could prepare himself for the motion, charge and rush of transfluid that was only a moment away.

Strong hands tightened on Jazz's helm, this the only moment where Prowl couldn't stop himself from _taking_ , but even in this movement the extra intensity it caused to crash through Prowl made it worth it for Jazz. Prowl was so willing to submit, desired pleasure to be mutual so much that Jazz simply couldn't begrudge this small selfish act when it happened. The maelstrom of pleasure it caused to crash through the bond as his helm was forced down as Prowl's hips bucked upwards made Jazz's processors swim at how much _more_ it gave his mate's overload.

More than enough for Jazz to make the switch, submission rising in an instant as the motion as he gave to what Prowl did, swallowing the transfluid surging down his intake with a moan.

The pleasure it brought Prowl was enough to drown any discomfort, and as the grip on his helm released some Jazz began to slowly clean his mate's spike, a content hum issuing from him as he felt Prowl sag, systems thrumming in content pleasure. Fingers went back to stroking Jazz's horns, the lower coordination a mark of how well fried Prowl's circuits were from Jazz's efforts.

~Love you, love how you make me feel,~ Prowl murmured across the bond, even the thought somewhat disjointed.

~Love you, forever and always.~ Jazz murmured in response, leaning into the touch as he finished with his mate's spike. He rose slowly, more of his frame curling around Prowl, and had to smile as he caught a glimpse of Stardancer. ~Don't know if it was your intention, but I think you might have startled your potential.~

~Startle her, no,~ Prowl chuckled as he nuzzled Jazz before considering the young mechling across from them. ~I meant to get her quivering hot.~

Stardancer was seated in her chair, wings stiff and quivering and optics bright as she studied the pair across from her.

Jazz laughed across the bond. ~Feel love, I think you succeeded there as well.~ He snuck a kiss and nuzzled at Prowl as Prowl's spike finally slid back into its housing and the cover closed. ~And what is the next step in your plan now?~

A mischievous flicker crossed the bond as Prowl smiled and focused on Stardancer. "I can feel you are going to be much easier to convince that's a fun activity than Jazz was," he purred at her, his field reaching out to brush hers with a contented approval.

He felt her flare of surprise at his statement. 

She wouldn't have imagined that after what she had just witnessed. The surprise was still not enough the cover up the heat in her systems that she wasn't sure how to deal with. "I-" she squirmed in her seat. "Yes-please."

Prowl smiled at her even as his hands stroked Jazz's frame. "Tell me your desire."

"Want to know what that feels like." Her gaze wandered from where Jazz was nipping and kissing his mate's neck down to Prowl's spike cover and back up again.

~What's she asking for love?~ Jazz asked, mostly focused on making out with his mate and the heat still running in his own systems.

~I believe she's asking to have her spike sucked,~ Prowl purred. ~Care to play with her wings while I see to taking her seal?~

~You do enjoy that.~ Jazz commented, nuzzling at Prowl for another kiss even as he agreed to the idea. ~And yes. Her wings are pretty. It will be fun finding out what turns her on.~

~Good,~ Prowl purred, the bond alive with _pleasure-relief_ that Jazz was inclined to play with her, at least occasionally. Though he didn't really _want_ them to be lovers, he did very much hope to share a berth with both his mates rather than split his nights between their rooms. A slight nudge got Jazz to stand, Prowl following him to his pedes. "You'd like to feel a mouth around your spike?" Prowl rumbled, every line of his frame excited by the prospect.

Stardancer looked up at him, quivering through her entire frame. "Yes, please my lord." She looked up at them, eager and unsure at the same time as he stepped up to her chair and leaned down. Gentle, confident lip plates caressed hers before his glossa slid along them.

Her response was eager and clumsy, frame leaning forward into his touch. Lips plates parted at the next touch of his glossa, optics dimming as she lost focus. His field caressed hers, enticing the charge building in her as his glossa slowly explored her mouth, caressing and sharing her first taste of him.

The edge of tension drained away as her frame relaxed, moaning softly in surprise again as Jazz came up behind her and stroked his hands gently over her wings. A tremor of pleasure passed through her as that touch mingled with Prowl's hands sliding down her chest, investigating curves and seams as he explored armor that was light for a warrior House, but heavy for the merchant one she'd come from.

Jazz's field reached out, brushing against hers and Prowl's and vibrating with a gentle pleasure as he caressed her wings slowly, finding the different contours and joints in hers compared to Prowl's and his own. She had a much lighter build than either of them, lighter than anyone native to a warrior House would have, but she still had a nice strength and mass to her.

Prowl gently broke the kiss and followed the trail of his hands with his mouth, kissing and licking his way down her frame, testing for hot spots.

She arched and squirmed some, systems heating and charge growing where she was caught between the attention of two skilled mechs. She shivered as Prowl's hands reached her hips and thighs, and pressing back as Jazz's hands ghosted over her arms as his lips found her wings.

"I am going to enjoy teaching you of pleasure," Prowl purred before his mouth found her spike cover and licked at it, silently requesting it open.

A shiver ran through her frame at the first touch of his glossa on the cover, and after a moment of hesitation the cover slid away, revealing an untouched and still sealed spike housing. The conical tip was already pressing at the seal.

A shiver of anticipation ran through Prowl, offering insight into how intense a kink this was for him as he settled on his knees. He didn't care in the least how submissive it might look. He got off on being _first_ too much. The rush of power it gave him was intense. He quickly grabbed the small bottle of cream from subspace and scooped a generous amount onto his fingers. "This, mixed with oral lubricants, will soften the seal so when your spike breaks free it will not hurt."

"It's true." Jazz murmured softly in her audio, hands traveling back to her wings as he kissed softly at her helm and her neck. Each brush of his lips and his hands was soft, but barely a distraction compared to the attention of Prowl on her spike. Each little touch as Prowl spread the creamy oil made her hips want to jerk forward into the touch and caused her spike, already beyond aroused by watching Prowl and Jazz together, try to press out of its prison.

Then Prowl's glossa slowly circled her spike, caressing the rim of the housing without touching her spike yet.

A soft gasp escaped Stardancer as she fell back against Jazz, moaning and begging. "Yes...please. Please."

"I think she likes it love." Jazz purred, watching over her shoulder.

"That's good," Prowl vented hot air across her spike head before giving it a long stroke of a lick before swirling it around the seal from edge to center and out again. With her trembling, half coherent cries echoing in the room he closed his lips around the edge of the housing and added suction to the laving of his glossa.

"What...do I do?" Stardancer gasped, trembling and twitching in Jazz's arms and making him smile affectionately.

"Just let it happen." Jazz murmured softly, offering the same advice that he had been given so many vorns ago. "Don't fight it."

A whimper met his words, slender hips thrusting upward with a cry of surprise as her spike broke through the weakened seal to pressurize rapidly into Prowl's mouth. With a smile he took her all the way in until his lips brushed the housing and tightly undulated his intake around the tip.

Jazz hummed, enjoying the view from his vantage point as his hands continued to work over her wings, sending suggestive images to his mate the entire time. Prowl retaliated with a few of his own, and the full force of just how _hot_ taking a seal made him.

Stardancer's hips rolled upward again, awkward and uneducated and simply responding to the pleasure coursing through her frame. In was in this that Prowl showed his experience fully. Despite the difficulty, he easily rode her thrusts, sometimes guiding, sometimes simply letting her move while he sucked and licked and tightened his intake.

The lingering taste of the seal and never-before-touched spike had his charge crackling across his circuits. He rolled his optics to look at his mate and shared exactly what he intended to do to Jazz to work that charge off.

Energy leapt to them both as Stardancer lost control, frame bucking then locking in her first overload. Hot, thick transfluid erupted from her spike for Prowl to swallow greedily, his intake working her until she collapsed in Jazz's arms.

Gasping and shaking as the charge gradually ebbed away and Prowl licked her spike clean, held still in Jazz's embrace and Prowl's grip, her field filled with stunned pleasure and awe.

Slowly Prowl looked up from where he knelt between her spread legs and smiled in a mixture of smug satisfaction and genuine pleasure at her response. He nuzzled her abdominals as her spike finally retreated into its housing. ~Berth, wall or table?~ He asked Jazz with a rumble across the bond.

~Going to hold me up if you wear me out against the wall?~ Jazz purred, running his hands down Stardancer's wings once more as he settled her back into a comfortable position in her chair, positioned to gave a good view of the action as he stepped back and spread his wings to brace against the wall.

~Always,~ Prowl growled hungrily as he stood smoothly to stalk to his mate. Strong white hands captured Jazz's frame, pushing him against the wall with strokes that were far more demanding and possessive that he'd ever use on Stardancer. Touches that left Jazz moaning into the kiss, glossa tangling with his mate's as his hands reached out to find Prowl's sensor wings, dipping into the joints.

Prowl's hand reached down to grab Jazz's knee as his spike sprung free to pressurize between them. They both moaned at the sensation of hot spike rubbing against valve cover as Jazz's knee was lifted to Prowl's hip. The leg curled around Prowl, drawing their frames together as Jazz's hands stroked along his mate's sensor wings, reveling in the familiar shapes that had captivated him from the moment he'd laid optics on them.

~Love this.~ Jazz moaned over the bond as his valve cover slid away, lubricant already dripping from his valve and his field full of eager anticipation.

"Yes," Prowl growled into a deeply resonant groan of relief as his spike sank into that wonderfully familiar slick, tight heat. He pressed his mouth against Jazz's as he drew back and thrust forward, every line of his frame taunt in the driving pace he set in response to both their needs. His kiss was met with equal passion, Jazz moaning aloud as his hands continued to wander over the familiar frame of his mate. Every sensitive spot, every seam and joint and receptor, long ago memorized, rated by the amount of pleasure it gave, and utilized now.

~Will never tire of you, of _this_ ,~ Prowl shuddered as his spike drove into the valve he sometimes swore had been made just for him it fit so perfectly. ~You feel so much better.~

~Yours.~ Jazz reminded him as the charge leapt to new heights, sweeping over their frames in currents and arching between them.

~Yours.~ Prowl's in a way that was deeper than any contract could ever bind. Prowl's in way that could never be forced, only freely given. And Jazz had given his spark, his very existence, to the mech that held him in arms.

In return Prowl had given Jazz all he could, everything he was free to give; his spark, his love, his trust, his passion, so many of his secrets.

Prowl's hips rolled with each thrust, rubbing every sensor to share the physical pleasure that had long become secondary to the passionate love that drove it. It was more than enough to drive his mate into a sweeping overload that encompassed frame and spark, pleasure and love surging over the bond as Jazz's helm and wings slammed into the wall and his frame arched against Prowl's with a keening scream of pure bliss.

Rumbling under that keen was Prowl's deeper, nearly bass roar as his wings flared and the fingers separated with energy crackling over them. His frame stiffened even as his hips drove forward harder, slamming the tip of his spike against the node clusters at the top of Jazz's valve while hot, thick transfluid pumped out of his spike.

Mutual bliss soared through the bond and across fields that blended and merged on contact now as Jazz clung to his mate, lost in the sharing and the closest feeling to being a single spark short of merging.

Prowl nuzzle his neck, licking and kissing blindly, sloppily, as the post-overload bliss washed through them, leaving them both content to their very cores.

~Love you,~ Prowl whispered. ~No matter how many I bond to I will always love you, loved you first.~

~And I will always be yours.~ Jazz answered as managed to his catch Prowl's lips in a rather uncoordinated but gentle kiss. Trembling hands were able to do little more than hold on to the steadying frame of his mate as Jazz came down from the high, a deep peace in his spark flowing across the bond on the heels of the surges of passion and pleasure.

Slowly, gently, they both came down and regained enough equilibrium to stand without using the wall for support. Reluctantly Prowl withdrew as he pulled away slightly, but made up for the loss of physical unity with a kiss and pulse through the bond. He was well aware of Stardancer's awed stare, but in the moment he was content to simply recover with his mate in his arms.

Jazz sighed softly as the kiss ended, nuzzling against his mate and content to stand there for as long as Prowl would allow, helm resting on his mate's shoulder and one optic on Stardancer, gauging her reaction for himself.

The sensation of an amused smile filtered across the bond as Jazz studied her. If he had been privileged to this sort of show when had been in her position he might have been quicker to want it. But he was glad that Prowl had been willing to move slowly, to build things with him and to devote all of his attention to Jazz.

~I enjoyed getting to know you, and remember, I was just as new to the idea of committing to another,~ Prowl mused across the bond. ~I have a slightly better idea of what I want this time.~

~And different.~ Even Jazz was aware of this fact. ~It would free up a lot of your time if she is able take on some of the less critical administrative duties after a while.~ He pointed out.

~It would,~ he agreed before looking over his shoulder at her. "Do you want more?"

"Yes." A trembling voice answered as the femme leaned forward in her seat, wings quivering eagerly and optics still locked on the pair.

~Would you prefer to watch her spike me, or be part of the fun while I suck you off?~ Prowl turned back to his mate for a heated kiss.

Jazz moaned into the kiss, then nuzzled at his mate. ~I think this time I will watch. She deserves your attention right now, for this.~

With a tender kiss Prowl nodded and stepped away to turn fully to Stardancer and extend his hand. "Your berth?"

She took his hand, field trusting and eager as she accepted his help from her seat. "Yes, of course." She gave a tiny startled sound when he continued the motion and pulled her against him and into a strong, passionate kiss, his field still alive with echoes of the pleasure he'd just shared with his mate.

Her field flickered before blending into his, full of eagerness and tasting the pleasure in Prowl's field as she settled into his arms. Her wings fluttered as gentle hands ran down them, Jazz coming up behind them and joining in the play, acceptance if not necessarily approval clear.

When the kiss broke Prowl guided her to her berthroom, letting go to lay on the berth and spread his legs, his knees up and valve cover sliding open to reveal platelets soaked in lubricant ready to drift onto the berth. "I'd like you to spike me."

There was a moment of shyness as Stardancer looked at him, optics flaring slightly as Jazz came up behind her, leaning around to murmur softly in her audio. "He enjoys it, and you will too." He promised.

She hesitated still under his hands, then shivered and glided forward, climbing on the berth to lean up and kiss Prowl. The touch was light but gained confidence with each passing moment as he responded with open desire. His hands found her wings and stroked them, exploring the differences from Jazz and other Praxian femmes he'd been with.

As the kiss continued his hands moved to her frame, stroking down to cup her aft and grind her against his valve array. She moaned softly at the touch, spike cover sliding away and the length pressurize between them, hips thrusting forward seeking pleasure.

Prowl broke their kiss to speak as his hands guided her hips upward a bit. "Until you know how to slide in, get your hand between us. Feel where the entrance is to guide yourself in."

Her hands slid down his frame obediently, ghosting over his frame until curious fingers touched his valve, sliding over the lubricant slicked platelets to circle the entrance. Golden optics flickered as he moaned in pleasured and anticipation, his hips rolling into the touch eagerly.

"E-explore if you want," Prowl managed to gasp despite his eagerness to be filled.

Curious fingers did just that, sliding around the edges of his valve before dipping inside to feel slick lining and the first sensor nodes. Stardancer's pleasure at his reactions was clear in her field, optics brightening with every outward flare of Prowl's field and the sounds she was getting.

A need-filled mewl escaped with Prowl's next gasp as he rolled his hips into her touch, almost blindly seeking more. His hands tightened around her hips, fingers flexing with each wave of pleasure that she triggered.

Stardancer purred in delight, leaning down to kiss him again. That was a talent that she was picking up rather quickly as her lips played over his and her fingers explored his valve, testing angles and discovering his reactions to various sensor nodes. The rush of drawing sounds and pleasure from Prowl was addictive, but when a hand curled around her spike and rubbed it, his _desires_ took center focus.

Her hips surged, spike rubbing against his hand as she gasped and was reminded of _what_ Prowl had intended. Her hands pulled away from Prowl's valve, one bracing on the berth and one traveling to join Prowl's.

"Show me." She pleaded softly.

With a shaky nod he stoked her spike one last time, locking its angle and position in his spatial awareness processors before moving his hands to her hips and shifting his own to make the entrance easier for her. His hands guided her hips down and forward until the tip of her spike passed through the slick, flexible platelets and through the rim of his valve. "Press forward when you're ready."

A soft moan escaped her at the warm slickness around just the tip of her spike, shivers running the length of her frame under his hands as her processor caught up with what he was saying. With another low moan she slid forward, slow as she experienced the feel of a welcoming valve rippling around her spike for the first time. Inside him the intensity of his field was even stronger, adding to the intoxicating effect of physical pleasure.

"Yessss," Prowl moaned, his entire frame reacting to the very welcome pleasure of being penetrated. "Deeper. All the way in."

She didn't speed up, unconsciously drawing out the pleasure for both of them until she was seated completely in him, gasping softly at the tight caress of his valve around her spike and shudders running through the length of her frame with each ripple. 

After a moment she pulled back, careful even though all she received in return was pleasure and approval of her actions, to push back in again. By the third stroke she'd noticed that he tightened his valve as she withdrew and relaxed as she thrust. It was something noted in her processor, hazy as it was from all stimulation coming from so many different angles and flaring through her frame. Her next thrust was harder, driving deeper into him as his hips rose to meet hers eagerly.

"Yesss," Prowl moaned, soaking in the pleasure and the rush of being her first, of giving her an experience she'd seek to recapture for the rest of her existence. "You're doing great."

She shivered at the encouragement and the change in the pleasure, pausing for a moment to find better leverage before thrusting in again, deeper and harder, encouraged further by his moans. There was a growing edge to her field, warning that she was not going to last much longer as unconscious sounds started to issue with every movement and visible charge began dancing over her frame once more.

"Overload for me," Prowl moaned with a shudder. "Let me feel how good it is for you."

Stardancer whimpered, helm falling against his chest as her thrusts lost rhythm, erratic and uncoordinated before her frame locked in overload and she keened, wings flaring. Her field flared wildly, pulsing with pleasure and washing over Prowl and a watching Jazz. Prowl's field flared, hot and bright and so very close as his frame rocked into hers, seeking just that last bit of stimulation he needed to overload once more.

A silent, wordless plea to his mate begged for enough touch to drive him over the edge and not leave her feeling as if she'd failed to please. Jazz leaned down, glossa gliding over his mate's chevron as his hands stroked down spread wings, his own field filled with desire reaching out to brush against Prowl's and grant his mate's wish.

With a screaming keen Prowl's entire frame reacted as electricity crashed through him unchecked. His valve tightened, rippling around the spike deep inside him and drawing even more of the charge to dance between them inside him. The rush of thick transfluid breaking over the sensor node cluster at the top of his valve sent another burst of energy into him as he lost all control of his frame.

The femme above him was so far gone in her own overload that she didn't even consciously register the additional waves of pleasure and energy that washed over her, keens answering Prowl's cries. There was no strength left in her frame as she came down from the overload. Sensor wings fell limply to the bed as her frame collapsed onto Prowl, fans working furiously as they tried to dissipate the heat and cool her systems from the charge.

Weakly Prowl wrapped his arms around her, holding her lightly as his systems also struggled to expel the intense heat from his frame. When all he could manage from his vocalizer was a buzzing hum, he modulated it to a tone of approval and enjoyed the afterglow of a good overload.

A soft purr answered his approval, blue optics dim without the energy to power them fully as she cuddled into his chest.

Jazz leaned down by his mate, nuzzling at Prowl as he settled on the head of the bed, one hand still stroking over a sensor wing from where he watched the entire thing play out.

~I have the energy to see to you once more,~ Prowl offered as he looked up at his mate.

Jazz laughed softly, claiming only a kiss from his mate. ~Rest love. I'm fine.~ Warm affection flooded across the bond to reinforce the words as he continued to stroke Prowl's wings.

Prowl's hum took on a new harmonic as he began to slip into recharge, exhausted and content.


	24. Trusting a Star

Stardancer relaxed on her berth. After bonding her very spark to Lord Prowl she had reveled in two decaorns of absolute, undivided and exclusive attention from him where their only duties were to indulge in each other. It was a pampering in ways that she thought were rather normal but to a warrior House it was a rare thing. Their training and discipline did not tolerate such time away, and Prowl took his duties even more seriously than she could comprehend. His entire existence was devoted to his goals. Even his love of Jazz, as honest and deep as it was, was only permitted because it furthered the House.

It was strange to gain such a quick and deep understanding of another. Insight into the Lord of the House and into the House of Shining Sun itself, even if she still did not understand everything that she had learned, and suspected that she might spend vorns studying Prowl before she did.

One thing that she had gathered rather quickly was that every member of the House existed for a reason and had purpose to further the House by aiding in its literal functioning.

Everyone except her.

Elegant wings flared at that though, along with a trickle of unease. She had no idea what kind of responsibilities Prowl might decide to hand her. Or was it possible that this long after the bonding period the fact that he had yet to give her even the simplest of tasks a sign of failure? She was almost ready to cautiously bring it up to Jazz. Even if the First Chosen didn't know, he had a much better understanding of the House and its Lord than she did. Possibly better than she ever would.

Her late-dawn musings were interrupted by a ping from her bonded with no urgency marker. Even if it wasn't urgent Stardancer responded instantly, still eager to please and trying to maintain a good impression with her Lord and newly bonded. ::My Lord?::

::When you are done with your morning routine, I would see you in my office. We have work to discuss,:: his response was in a far cooler tone than she was used to from him.

::Yes, my Lord. I will be there within the joor.:: She answered, crisp and clean in her answer and doing her best to cover up the nagging worry pulling at her.

::That is acceptable,:: he replied and closed the line.

* * *

Stardancer paused, taking a moment to settle herself since she really had no idea what to expect or why she had been summoned. Satisfied that she was as presentable as she was going to get she pinged the door for admittance. It slid open immediately to reveal her bonded, the Lord of the House, at a surprisingly simple desk covered in neat stacks of datapads. One was in his hand as he glanced up at her.

"Sit," he pointed to the chair across the desk from his. "I understand you have been trained to manage a household of this size?"

"Yes my Lord." Stardancer slipped gracefully into the indicated chair. "My training was based on the annual census of the House of Shining Sun and its public interests and holdings. I have the theory, and the practice in running some of the smaller operations of my creator's House."

"Good," he handed her a datapad. "Spend a few breems with that and write a report on how you would handle it."

A small frown graced the femme's features as she reviewed what he had given her. It was an expression of concentration more than any sort of concern, and her field quickly settled into one of comfortable familiarity as handled the task.

It was silently, and well within in the given timeframe, that she stood and offered the datapad back to him. "My lord."

Prowl glanced up as he took the pad. "No need to stand to hand them back," he said with a bit more gentle a tone. "The same for this," he handed her another datapad while he studied her response to the first.

Thus the rest of the morning went, her datapads containing subjects ranging inventory to finance to emergency response to tactics to several branches of practical law.

Stardancer worked her way through each with the same thoroughness. Some subjects she lacked knowledge of, and was quick to admit it. Others she was very comfortable with and gave detailed responses to. Each time her field touched his, she felt the approval of her prior work there. Muted by his serious nature, but definitely approval.

When it was time to break for the noon meal, Jazz arrived and draped himself shamelessly across his mate's shoulders from behind to snatch a kiss. ~How's she doing?~

~Far better than she implied she would,~ Prowl purred into the kiss, keeping the conversation carefully shielded from Stardancer. ~I should be able to leave almost all domestic duties to her within the vorn.~ His flare of _relief-pleased-pleasure_ did cross the bond with her.

"I will show you to your office after the meal," Prowl said as he stood, gracefully dislodging Jazz. "There are duties you can begin to take over."

Stardancer was unable to hide her pleasure, wings flaring slightly as her optics glowed in pleasure as she stood to join them. "Thank you."

Jazz fell into step beside his mate. ~It will be nice to have someone to trust with that.~ The fact was that he didn't care to take care of such things, even if he was perfectly able to do so.

~Yes, it will,~ Prowl agreed as he drew Stardancer against his right side while Jazz was against his left. ~It will free much of my orn, which will improve my ability to prepare the House for war, and spend time with both of you and our creations. That is a major advantage of additional bondeds. You have to share me, but I have much less work to do.~

Jazz leaned slightly into his side, savoring being close to Prowl. ~I know love. I am adjusting. It is just taking some time.~

He glanced over to where Stardancer was walking on Prowl's other side. ~It is good that there is something for her to do. I think she was starting to worry.~

~She had much to learn and adapt to, no matter how they tried to prepare her,~ Prowl leaned over to nuzzle her affectionately as the office door closed behind them. ~Meal in the mess or dinning hall?~ he asked them both.

"Mess." Jazz suggested, and Stardancer simply nodded in agreement. ~It will be good for the House to see the three of us together.~ Jazz added privately to Prowl.

~Agreed,~ Prowl shifted his frame to nuzzle Jazz as they headed out of the main building and towards the warrior's mess.


	25. For The Good of the House

Stardancer walked smoothly into the office of the House healer for her checkup. At a metacycle and a half into carrying her first new spark, she was excited and thrilled by both Prowl and Jazz's warm welcome of the news. After several normal checkups, she wasn't escorted by either of them anymore, something that she took as another sign of their trust in her. Even after nearly sixty vorns with them and the duties she was entrusted with, she was still startled on occasion when they displayed such ease in believing she would do the right thing.

Her outright fear, especially of Jazz, had been laid to rest early in the bonding. While the First Bonded was undoubtedly possessive of the Lord and his attention, he had only encouraged the affection and bond between Stardancer and Prowl. The invitation to spend recharge with them most orns had been sincere and welcoming, and Jazz himself treated her with a level of personal affection reflected in his reaction at the news of her carrying.

Her carrying. Stardancer's hand rose to smooth over her breastplates, excitement flaring. Her chance to add to the House and give her Lord another creation.

"Welcome, Lady Stardancer," Keepsafe's warm, resonant voice drew her from her musing. "Please come in."

The femme smiled at the healer, wings fluttering slightly as she followed Keepsafe into the exam room and settled on the berth. It was a routine by now, something that she thought nothing of.

Until Keepsafe's expression became a frown. "Have you felt differently since your last checkup?"

Stardancer paused, considering her answer and how she had felt in the orns since the last time she had sat on the berth under the healer's attention. "I have not been quite as tired, but I thought it was just my frame and systems finally adjusting to the changes."

"The new spark is weakening," Keepsafe said softly, something close to dread in her tone. "I feared this would happen given your age, but there was hope that you were mature enough to support it."

Fear flared through Stardancer. Wings drew in close to her shivering frame, and there was a clear edge near panic in her field as she looked up at the medic. "What does that mean?"

"Please calm down," Keepsafe tried to focus her. "It means that I will have to abort it, least it be malformed. You will be able to carry again, after your final upgrades have settled in."

Arms crossed protectively over her chest, the first signs of carrier behavior already showing through. "Abort it?" She murmured, disturbed.

Keepsafe nodded, her field gentle and understanding as it wrapped around the young femme. "This House does not suffer the malformed to life. It is better to return the spark to Primus before it begins to speak to you than after you have bonded to it."

~Is something wrong?~ Prowl's awareness brushed against hers.

Ingrained reaction had Stardancer pulling away from him at first, folding in on herself in grief and shame until she pulled herself together with a wretch. ~Keepsafe...the newspark...is not well.~

Distress flickered across the bond, then a soothing calm. ~I will be there shortly.~

Acceptance slid across the bond, all the still distressed femme could manage in response at the moment as she huddled on the berth in the medical ward. The touch of Keepsafe's field drew her back enough for optics to focus on the medic. "Lord Prowl is coming."

"It will be all right," Keepsafe said gently as she sat down on the berth with the mechling. "There is no reason you will not be able to kindle again when you are older. Your systems simply aren't ready yet."

"But I've failed..." Stardancer whimpered, arms still crossed over her chestplates and leaving the medic to wonder who she had failed.

"You have not failed," Keepsafe said firmly. "Lord Prowl will confirm that. Not every new spark was meant to survive. Not in this House."

Stardancer vented softly, a whisper of hope in her field from where she was still curled on the berth, but also the feeling that she would not believe it until she heard it from her mate. So Keepsafe simply held her and waited the long kliks until Prowl came in.

"Report," his voice was calm and cool, no different from any other potential abortion he had been forced to assess. Keepsafe stood and motioned him to the readouts, well aware that he knew what he was looking at and did not need her to explain it anymore. Stardancer flinched at his tone, looking away from the monitors that only spelled out her failure. Failure to her Lord and the newspark she carried, to her new House.

The spark was failing, fading as her systems denied it energy that they could not spare, weakening it. Across the bond, when she dared let herself feel it, was turmoil. Her Lord was distressed, determined, and thinking hard. He was not happy with what he was looking at.

After a terribly long half klik, Prowl's wings drooped and he turned to Stardancer. "She is correct. If the sparkling is permitted to separate it will be small and weak."

Troubled green optics looked up at him, swirling with the same painful emotions rippling across the bond. "I'm sorry." She whispered softly.

"It's not your fault," he murmured and sat to draw her against him. "You were not ready. A Shining Sun sparkling is not always easy to carry. Not all are meant to join this House."

She didn't resist the pull of his arms or the comfort that he was offering, frame curling against his as she quivered in distress. "I'm sorry." She apologized again.

This time he didn't correct her, but simply held her. The agony in the bond no different than every other time he had given the order. He despised ordering the end to a new spark, even as he understood the reasoning for it. ~The termination can be done by merging with another or Keepsafe can do it manually. I give that choice to you.~

~Merge with another?~ She looked up at him, slightly broadsided by the suggestion-permission that Prowl was offering her.

~Yes, any spark other than its sire will destabilize the new spark and cause it to be reabsorbed,~ he murmured. ~Jazz may be willing, or I will buy a courtesan for the evening to do it. It allows the end to ... not hurt.~

~And Keepsafe?~ She whispered, though there was the sense of her processor working furiously.

~It leaves the spark aching for many metacycles,~ he shuddered, memories flickering up unbidden. ~It _hurts_. But it does not require another to touch you.~

She leaned against him, hand clenching into a fist and relaxing as she tried to cope with and process the idea. ~I would let another, if you will permit.~ She finally decided.

Prowl nodded. ~I will arrange for a courtesan to come tomorrow night. I ask only that you allow yourself to enjoy the attention.~

She nodded quietly in agreement, not promising but hoping that she would. That this would pass and that she would be forgiven for what had to happen. It was different, so different from where she had come from. Difficult carries, fading sparks were terminated for the good of the House or carrier on occasion. But the shame of failing to be able to carry a sparkling that would seal a contract was shameful.

And even if it was not far enough along for her to feel, the loss of a new life _hurt_.

~I know,~ he caressed her through the bond, offering the fact that he knew from personal experience just what she was going through. ~I know. When your adult frame has settled we will try again. There is nothing wrong with your spark or frame. You are simply too young.~

She fell into that comfort, taking it for all that it was worth as she pressed against him. She was only distantly aware that he was speaking to Keepsafe, or that he was guiding her to her room in his suite.

~Jazz, I realize you are training now, but I need you to comfort Stardancer in her room,~ Prowl reached out across the bond. ~The newspark must be terminated.~

Distress flooded back across the bond, full of sorrow and sadness. ~Her systems are not mature enough to support it to term?~ He guessed.

~Not to the standards of the House, no,~ he said regretfully. ~I would stay, but I can not delay the conference any longer than I have.~

~The master will forgive me this, I think. I will be there in a klik.~ Jazz promised.

~Thank you, love,~ Prowl whispered before focusing on Stardancer once more. "Jazz will be here soon."

She nodded against him, relief evident at the fact that he was not going to leave her alone, even though all that she wanted to do was curl up and not function.

~Here love.~ Jazz appeared soon after Prowl had her in the suite, optics taking both of them as he his field reached out to wrap around Stardancer, full of gentle acceptance and comfort that she leaned into nearly as much as Prowl's frame.

Prowl nuzzled her, then gently began to disengage their frames so Jazz could hold her. "I am sorry, but I must go. I will return as soon as I can."

Stardancer accepted the transfer between the two mechs with a quiet whisper of thanks, allowing Jazz to lead her in the direction of the berth and settle her there. ~I have her love. We'll be here when you get back.~

~I will deal with my duties as quickly as I can,~ he promised before slipping away and forcing his processors to focus on his duties once more.

Jazz considered for another moment, feeling Stardancer over carefully. ~Might want to arrange for energon to be sent here later love. She'll need the fuel, even if she doesn't feel like it.~

~I will, if you have not,~ Prowl promised from out of sight. ~Her slave can fetch it, or you can comm the kitchen.~

~I'll arrange to have some sent, but it might take you insisting that she refuel to make it happen.~ Jazz replied before turning his attention to focus on his current charge.

~If she hasn't refueled when I return, I will make sure she does so,~ Prowl promised. ~She's chosen to have it ended by a courtesan. I will have that arranged before I return as well.~

"Easy, shh." Jazz soothed the smaller femme as he settled her on the berth and curled around her frame, wings and arms wrapping her in warm embrace that accepted her pain and grief and offered a warm field in return.

* * *

Jazz stretched out on the berth, frame molding around Prowl's back as he reached out to stroke a hand comfortingly down his mate's sensor wing. His field melded with the others' without thought, habit when in those close proximity and safe in the privacy of their quarters. The edge brushed against Stardancer, currently settled in Prowl's arms and finally deep in the recharge that she so desperately needed. ~Is she settled for the night love?~ He asked softly, checking over the bond with the mech that would know better than anyone.

~Yes. She is in deep recharge,~ he said with a sense of gratitude that she'd have at least have the recharge and a small time of peace.

~How bad is it?~ Jazz asked, nuzzling at the back of Prowl's neck. ~There is no hope for the newspark she carries?~

~Not here,~ he murmured, keenly aware that in most of Cybertron it would not be terminated.

~Why? What is wrong? Is Stardancer in danger?~

~Not really,~ Prowl admitted, the fact twisting his spark. ~It is simply weak. Below the standards set for the House.~

Jazz considered that. He was well aware of the House laws that regulated the condition of newsparks and newly separated sparklings and what was acceptable. It was probably his greatest disagreement with the House laws. He continued to stroke Prowl's wing. ~How far below the standard?~

Prowl twitched, a proto-shiver running down his frame. ~Too much.~ He databurst the test results to his mate. ~More than I can waive with orders to watch it carefully and ... it's better, not to _feel_ it.~

~It is.~ Jazz agreed, snuggling closer to his mate as he tried to come up with any way around the termination as he reviewed the results. ~Keepsafe doesn't believe this is one that might strengthen on its own once it separates?~

~There is always that possibility,~ Prowl said cautiously. ~I don't know what she thinks, honestly. She follows the letter of the law in this, as do I.~

~Is that a risk worth taking?~ The question drifted across the bond, asking for the _truth_ even though Jazz was wishing to protect the new life with all of his spark. Carrier protocols that ran deep in his programming screamed at him to protect any spark that had a chance at life, especially one so close to his own.

Prowl shuddered from his core as his spark sank. ~It would survive if it were allowed to. I have little doubt of it. I am the Lord of this House, my love. I _must_ set the example. I cannot give this spark special treatment because I created it. I don't know any other options. The House will not accept it if it is not perfect. I will be blamed for not doing my duty if it is not accepted. I will have failed the House ... and I ... and I must kill it publicly if it separates and is not good enough.~

Jazz's flinch was spark deep, the pain his mate faced if they failed cutting into him even as the needs warred with his desires. ~Better to take it now.~ He finally whispered, unable to see any other options.

~It is,~ Prowl nearly cried at the truth of it. ~The Shining Sun has remained strong for so long because of our standards. Sometimes to be strong forces painful choices. There is little I want more than to never order a newspark to be extinguished. Yet I do it, for the good of the House and the future. She is young, love. Too young to carry. I would have her continue to believe it is only that she is a mechling that caused this. It is not her fault that it is weak. I would not tell her the full truth if she does not demand to know. It is hurting her too much as it is.~

~She is intelligent and observant. She will find the truth eventually, but hopefully not until there is another healthy sparkling for her to care for.~ Jazz replied.

~Agreed,~ he murmured. ~I won't lie to her if asked outright. I would not have you or Keepsafe do so. But until she _asks_ , I would not burden her with the information. It is not tactically sound to share it.~

Jazz had to laugh softly at the element of his mate that was never far from Prowl's functioning. He nuzzled at Prowl's wings again, seeking and offering the comfort that both of them needed. ~A wise choice love. We will not lie to her. But if this one was not meant to walk among us, Primus must have some plan.~

~To test us, perhaps. A spark this young may not be self-aware enough to have a purpose yet,~ Prowl mused, repeating something he wasn't sure of but held onto with all he was to be able to give the orders he did to terminate them.

Jazz sighed, done with words as he tugged gently on his mate until Prowl released his hold on Stardancer and rolled to his back. It didn't take much, and Prowl reached to embrace his mate as he let Stardancer settle a bit away from him.

Jazz pressed his lips Prowl's, the kiss gentle and soft as he settled against his mate, hands stroking down Prowl's sides. A soft moan escaped Prowl as he kissed back, his lips parting in offering as his hands slid along Jazz's back and up along the elegant sensor wings he was so enamored of.

Glossa tangled with his mate's as Jazz purred softly, wings flexing into Prowls hands and hips grinding against Prowl's. There was no hesitation, only a moan of need escaping him as his valve cover slid open.

Jazz attention shifted to nibbling on Prowl's neck shoulder as his spike pressurized between them, need strong in his field as it merged more deeply with Prowl's. A resonantly audible moan escaped Prowl as he responded to that need and his own anticipation of pleasure washing away the thoughts so he could recharge. It was desire that was echoed in Jazz's field as he concentrated on Prowl, pulling back and rolling his hips, sinking his spike into the waiting valve with one smooth motion.

~Yes,~ Prowl moaned across the bond, sharing how _good_ it felt to be spread and filled, the intense pleasure of the slide of spike against well-lubricated valve nodes.

With another groan Jazz claimed a kiss from his mate as his hips started to roll in a steady rhythm, rubbing their frames together and maintaining as much contact as he could manage. Under him Prowl gratefully gave over all control to him, reveling in being made love to.

Prowl's hands roamed over Jazz's frame, stroking the wings spread over them and rolling his hips into each thrust that sent jolts of pleasure through his frame.

The need to comfort and be comforted, to feel the love and closeness of a loved one and be as close as they dared to another spark rolled across the bond as Jazz gave himself over the pleasure and his mate, forgetting everything else for the moment.

* * *

Jazz had to smile as he watched the newest addition to the family chase lightcreatures around the great room. Dagger was an active little sparkling, healthy and quick. Though he was small and lightly built, he was well within the expectations of the House to everyone's relief. With Keepsafe's blessing to his health and Prowl's blessing in presenting him, all the technical risks were past. 

A full adult now, her second kindling and carrying had given the House of Shining Sun another life to rejoice in. It was a healing balm to Stardancer's spark after the loss of her first sparkling, and no small relief to Prowl.

"He's adorable," Sideswipe grinned at his younger sibling, content, for now, to simply watch.

"You were as well when you were that age. And not being a terror." Jazz informed him, tone full of good humor.

"And most of the time I was being a terror," Sideswipe winked at his carrier, his sensor wings flaring and flicking in amusement. "He's going to be a sparkbreaker when he grows up."

"Yes, he is." Jazz had to chuckle at that. "Not that all you aren't." He had to admit, looking over at his twin creations that were watching the young sparkling. All of them were handsome mecha, with lovers and suitors chasing them by the time they were mechlings. Unlike the fliers that preceded them, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were not that interested in attachments, though they both indulged in pleasure when on offer.

~We do make good looking and desirable creations,~ Prowl purred at his mate's thought as he held Stardancer from behind.

Laughter flowed across the bond, Jazz's wings flicking as he agreed. Times like these made his functioning perfect, when he had most of his family together.

~I look forward to the next time you feel like procreating,~ Prowl purred, nuzzling Stardancer in approval of her addition and causing her to melt back against her Lord, much more secure in her place now.

~Now?~ Jazz asked, only half kidding and his wings flicking suggestively at his mate. Lightbeam was a midstage mechling, well on his way to independence.

The spike of desire he felt from his mate was all the answer he really needed.

~We _do_ raise multiples well,~ Prowl said suggestively.

Jazz purred, visor flashing as he watched Dagger pounce on another on lightpatch, conquering it thoroughly before stalking the next one with equal intent and focus. ~It's not such a bad thing to have several close together. It gives them a playmate close to their own age. And my training is complete enough I could take another break...~ he concluded, fingers brushing unconsciously over the honor blade now openly displayed on his hip. Presented by his mate and Lord in honor of achieving his fourth level during the last House ceremony acknowledging those warriors who had progressed. It was also the maker where Prowl was finally willing to allow his mate to join him on campaign.

~Things are quiet now,~ Prowl added. ~It is extremely unlikely for a conflict to come in the next few vorns.~

He could feel Jazz considering that, rolling it around in his processor and looking at it from multiple angles, a skill and habit learned from Prowl. ~How many vorns out love?~

Prowl had to really _think_ about that; it was a task complex enough to tax even his processors. ~There is a 8.8817% probability that a conflict large enough to warrant both of us occurring in the next ninety vorns.~

~So small that we would not be risking leaving a youngling alone.~ Jazz concluded.

~I believe so,~ Prowl purred softly again, his processors shifting off the calculations and back to the reason he'd been asked.

Jazz shifted his leg out of the way of a charging sparkling without conscious thought as he made a suggestion. ~Maybe Stardancer will be agreeable to recharging in her own berth tonight.~

Prowl nuzzled her. ~Would you mind recharging on your own for a few orns? Jazz and I wish to kindle a sibling for Dagger.~

~Of course not.~ Stardancer replied instantly, well aware that even after all of this time recharging with her Lord and his First Bonded was a privilege and not something that she was entitled too. A moment later and her processor caught up with the reason for his request. ~So close to Lightbeam?~

~Yes. We have done very well raising more than one,~ he gave her flashes in reminder that their first time was a group of three, then they had twins. ~That and Jazz dislikes leaving a sparkling or youngling if there is a war, something unlikely to happen in the next century.~

She turned her helm, silently requesting a kiss that was granted with Prowl's customary passion. ~Then I wish my Lord and his First Chosen the blessing of Primus.~

~Thank you,~ he deepened the kiss slightly. ~I will indulge you when we succeed.~

She purred in response, field brushing against his in affection and confidence.


	26. Historical Moments

Prowl fought with both his swords, small shields on each arm and built in ranged weapons. This was a desperate situation and he knew it. So did the three units with him. He'd been outmaneuvered by surprise at facing nearly twice the forces Intel had supplied and those forces being _far_ better equipped than anticipated.

~Where are you?~ Prowl called to his mate, his SIC in this disaster of a campaign. Though he tried to keep his voice level, to hold himself to the standard he always had, he was terrified. He'd never miscalculated like this before, never been so close to defeat that he shut his battle computer off so he could focus on fighting. He'd never _truly_ fought for his spark before. These were his elite, and they were being slaughtered around him.

If Jazz did not arrive with his units within a breem, this battle could well cost the Shining Sun its prominence. Even if he escaped, to lose so many experienced warriors would take a dozen centuries to replace.

There was the momentary pause as Jazz triangulated on his mate's exact location and calculated a response. ~Three kliks.~ He answered, before amending. ~Make that two. Hold on.~

Even with the tight rein Prowl was keeping on his emotions Jazz could sense his mate's desperation, and it drove his own all the higher.

That desperation peaked when the bond went blank a moment later. Not shattered as it would have been if Prowl was deactivated, but the odd stillness that Jazz knew from experience was the feel of his bonded in stasis.

::Move.:: Jazz snapped at his troops, setting expectation by example as he picked up the pace. Sensor wings flared to keep track of their surroundings and compensate for the hurried speed, as much of Jazz's attention as he felt like he could spare centered on the bond looking for his mate. It was moving, further away, and quickly, towards the city.

Then he was in the thick of battle with his forces and had a good look at why Prowl was so near panic. Praxians, the elite of the House, lay deactivated or crippled all over the battlefield. They had taken out many of the mixed frametypes of troops they'd fought against, but the numbers and weapons had simply been too much.

Jazz called out, rallying the remaining troops that he could reach, organizing them against the enemy troops and finishing the fight in a way that felt almost too easy after mate's panic. The retreat seemed to have begun before his arrival despite the fact that the enemy was winning.

A thought tickled at his processor. Could it be the entire attack had been to capture Prowl, the General in charge of suppressing the revolt and one who's reputation was well known for his prior campaigns in the area?

His spark sank as he ordered a search, the mecha under his command flagging the wounded and the dead as they searched, always on guard for enemy soldiers. He kept his growing dread well hidden as the expanded search revealed Prowl missing from both the wounded and the deactivated.

"Is he gone, Lord Jazz?" Manchet, one of Prowl's Guard, asked quietly when no one else was within easy hearing. The warrior was relatively young for the unit, only a few vorns older than Prowl, and he had taken a brutal beating in his efforts to protect his Lord. One sensor wing was missing completely while the other was half gone.

Jazz's wings quivered at the suggestion, but he shook his helm. "He functions still, but where or what state he is in I do not know." He stood straight, scanning the battlefield once more as the troops started to trickle in with reports.

A burst of motion drew his attention became the form of a Praxian alt mode racing towards them, a mech who transformed and skidded to a stop on his pedes directly in front of Jazz. "Lord Prowl was seen being taken towards the city by one of the command officers of the rebel forces," he reported.

Sensor wings flared slightly, Jazz's frame stiffening before he nodded in acknowledgement, his duty clear. "Continue the retreat. Get the wounded off the field and regroup. All we can do now is wait for word and prepare for another encounter."

"Yes, Sir," the warrior saluted and returned to his origin point to continue his search for survivors.

"If they took him alive, they must realize his value in trade," Manchet murmured, remaining by Jazz's side.

"I hope." Jazz murmured in reply, remaining roughly stationary as he continued to field reports and observe the process of pulling back.

The number of grayed frames he counted as they passed by cut him to his spark, the loss to the House a painful blow. They would survive, but there was going to be more than one broken spark comforted that orn.

* * *

Prowl booted up with full combat protocols, only to find that he was very well bound. His arms locked behind his back, forcing his now unarmored wings high and vulnerable as he knelt, half bent forward by his bonds, in a large room surrounded by many mecha that were not Praxian. It was the two before him that he focused on. By stance, field and placement they were leaders.

"Prisoner: conscious," a _familiar_ voice caused Prowl to power his optics and look up at the fully concealed face of a mech he knew, at least in passing.

"Soundwave, Lord of House Mindsweeper," Prowl stared at him steadily. A close relative of Sounder, the First Bonded of Jazz's youngest sibling. It made Prowl's tanks churn to realize that House Mindsweeper supported the revolt.

"He is no Lord here," the other one, a huge gray tank-former snarled and cuffed Prowl hard to get his attention. "I am Megatron."

"I know," Prowl responded simply, refusing to show how much the blow hurt.

"You will join my forces," Megatron continued as if Prowl hadn't spoken.

"No," Prowl corrected him, his voice even and defiant.

A savage smile crossed Megatron's features. "Then I will enjoy making you regret that choice."

"Lord Prowl: most valuable in trade," Soundwave spoke up, earning a glare from Megatron. "House of the Shining Sun: wealthy and well connected."

"You hate that, don't you," Megatron focused back on Prowl. "That a sparked miner would benefit from your failure."

Prowl just looked at him, calm and quietly defiant. Soundwave's movement to his side drew his attention just in time to shut off all the sensor relays to his right wing as the outer finger from the first joint to the tip was cut off in a single motion. Energon flow was cut off a moment later to prevent him from bleeding out.

He gave Soundwave credit for knowing how to do it, even if it was hardly necessary to prove possession of him and his continued functioning. Such an ancient practice had long been abandoned by civilized Houses, but no one who would back a revolt was civilized.

Even with the sensors off and the energon loss stopped, Prowl felt himself losing focus, then the wooziness that preceded stasis from system shock.

* * *

"Lord Jazz, a messenger is here from the rebels," Manchet reported. "With a package," his tone was uneasy and a little sick.

The warrior had Jazz's instant attention, the battle reports and analysis forgotten as soon as he took in Manchet's state of unease. "Prowl?" He asked softly as he stood.

"Part of him," Manchet responded. "The first finger of his right sensor wing. Proof of possession and function. A _very_ old custom long abandoned by civilized Houses."

Relief and anger flooded through Jazz, brought under control in a moment. "I will hear what he has to say."

Mechet nodded and turned open the door. A moment later a visibly nervous looking and rather non descript mech smaller than Jazz entered, clearly struggling with the long, slender and unmarked box he was carrying.

"Are you the acting leader of the army?" the messenger asked uneasily.

Jazz looked him over coolly before answering. "I am Lord Jazz of the House of Shining Sun and acting commander of the Prime's Army. You have a message for me?"

The messenger nodded and stepped forward to place the box and a datapad on the desk. "I'm to deliver those, and take your answer back."

Jazz felt Manchet slide around beside him as he reached for the box, already braced for what he knew he was going to find inside. It was still hard to suppress the shudder as he looked down at the very familiar portion of sensor wing that he knew as his mate's, even fading and gray.

He looked back up at the smaller mech, pleased with the trembling even though they both knew the messenger was safe enough until his task was complete.

Jazz's attention shifted to the datapad, lifting the small item and flicking it on to view the contents.

It had the look of being formally written by someone with an extensive education, not the upstart miner they were supposedly facing. A mech that _should_ barely be able to read the orn's news, if that. Other than that, it was fairly familiar. A statement of who they had, who the frame part was from, and what they wanted to return their prisoner. Jazz had sent hundreds of these out and paid a few as well, though never of a ranking member of the House and never with such a grisly token of proof.

The demands were extensive, though not unreasonable when compared to the status of the mech that was being ransomed and the wealth of the House of the Shinning Sun. Jazz scanned the list a second time before setting the datapad down on the desk.

"The terms for ransom are agreeable. They will be paid where and as specified." He informed the messenger evenly.

The nervous mech nodded and seemed decidedly relieved to get out of the room.

Menchet waited for the door to close. "They have noble backing, Lord Jazz. No commoner knows we do this, nor could one so accurately judge Lord Prowl's worth."

"I know. The fact is troubling." Jazz sighed, sinking into the nearest chair and looking up at the mech had started to rely on since Prowl's capture. After a moment's consideration he reached out across the bond, feeling for his mate. Prowl was there, alive, aware and no longer afraid. In fact, his mate was leaning towards severely pissed off.

~Love?~ Jazz asked, nudging at Prowl carefully but not hiding the fact that he was beyond relieved to feel his mate again.

~Jazz?~ Prowl reached back, giving the first sign that something was _seriously_ wrong. The response was slow, disjointed and thick with the aching of many wounds left untended. ~House Mindsweeper,~ he forced himself to focus, to get the information to his mate before he blacked out again.

~Understood.~ Jazz responded even as he felt the connection fade once more. He sent a surge of love for Prowl over the bond, even if his mate could not feel it or respond, before refocusing on the present.

"House Mindsweeper," He repeated, looking up at Manchet.

"Mid level House in Kaon. They have a strong inheritance as hosts and telepaths," he paused, a disturbed look crossing his hansom features. "The origin House of your brother's First Bonded."

"I know." Jazz responded, his own voice taking on a grim tone as he contemplated that. "The question now being is this an act of the House proper, or the act of a rouge individual."

"Lord Prowl will know when we pay the ransom," Manchet said firmly. "His price will require effort to arrange in time."

Jazz nodded in agreement and started to set in motion getting the ransom arranged for his mate.

* * *

Jazz worked to maintain a level of calm on the outside that he certainly did not feel on the inside. They had everything that had been on the ransom list for Prowl's return. They were at the designated location at the designated time. So far whoever was the mastermind behind the uprising had followed old tradition to the letter. If things continued as they had the other side should show up with their captive, confirm that their demands were met, and make the exchange.

He still felt better with the selection of elite guard that stood at his back, Manchet at his side as they watched the approaching party. He picked out Prowl immediately; he was the only Praxian, and the only one that wasn't walking right. Though he was visibly doing his best to stand straight and walk steadily, it wasn't really working.

The bond cracked open with a wash of relief and restrained pain. ~It is good to see you, love.~

~Love.~ Jazz answered with love and relief, feeling and evaluating his mate across the bond as much of his attention focused on the other approaching mecha. ~You'll be free soon.~

~Don't trust anything,~ he managed before stumbling. He would have dropped to his knees if Megatron hadn't grabbed his shoulder to keep him upright.

~I won't.~ Jazz promised, wings flaring just slightly at the treatment of his mate as he focused on Megatron and motioned to the gathered ransom. "Your demands, complete."

"Your Lord, still functioning," Megatron replied with a sneer as he motioned a handful of microbots, likely symbiots, to check the ransom.

~Soundwave,~ Prowl gritted his denta.

Distracted, Jazz poured more effort into the bond. ~What?~ He asked, even as his wing twitched slightly.

It was enough to catch Manchets attention, and to alert the rest of the guard to be on the ready.

~Lord ... Mindsweeper,~ Prowl managed before dropping into stasis in Megatron's grip while mecha moved forward to gather the ransom.

Jazz waited until they had looked everything over. "It is all there. The exchange." He said pointedly, motioning two of the guard forward so they could collect Prowl.

No matter how much he wanted to collect his mate himself, to hold Prowl in his arms and feel that pulse of his mate's spark close to his own as a tangible assurance that Prowl was functioning, it was not his place.

He was still in command of the army, of this operation, the exchange. He would have to wait to satisfy his own desires. He would have to make do with watching as Prowl was carried back to his side with far more care than Megatron gave him.

As Prowl passed within wing-reach of his mate, all pit broke loose. Blaster fire and detonations erupted all around.

::Defensive retreat.:: Jazz ordered, going on reflex as he moved into position to defend himself and his mate. ::We have what we came for.::

He realized in an instant that the order hadn't made it to his forces even as Manchet roared the order out loud and everyone fell into an organized effort as the well trained and drilled unit they were. It was a sick sense of deja vu as Jazz realized they were massively out numbered once more and losing warriors fast. He fell back beside those protecting Prowl, knowing that backup was already being sent for and afraid in his spark that would not arrive in time.

Another explosion tore into the forces, but not on the Praxian side. Another and a third, this time close enough that Jazz could track it from the ground to the air ... to Vosian wings. Nearly a score of trines worth of Seekers spread out in a strafing run to protect the retreating Praxians.

Slightly surprised but not about to argue at the appearance of allies, Jazz took down a mech blocking his path and coordinated the extraction of his mate and remaining warriors. The hum of an incredibly powerful weapon cycling up caught his attention to behind them and to Megatron, who was pointing his fusion cannon directly at Prowl's back.

::Move.:: Jazz snapped, even though all that came out audibly was a growl as he turned on the miner turned revolutionary, determined to take him down, or at least save his mate if he could not. He had his sights lined up just in time to see a bolt from above hit Megatron, freezing him in some kind of thin crystal coating, then a red and white Seeker transform and landed without breaking to put all that momentum into a blade slice.

It was testament to Megatron's armor and sturdy construction that he didn't shatter, though the blade did cut deeply from shoulder to near his spark chamber.

Jazz checked his attack mid-spring, landing smoothly and turning to the newcomer as his HUD supplied and identity.

Lord Starscream, Royal House of Vos.

The Seeker turned his helm and grinned at him. "Think _this_ is enough for Prowl to stop objecting?"

"That is a question he will have to answer." Jazz replied, acknowledging the assistance and offering a wave of thanks. "Once the medics have seen to him."

"They'll have time to now," Starscream nodded and pulled his sword out, using a pede for leverage. "Want the kill?"

"Your catch, your kill." Jazz said with a tilt of his helm, acknowledging the honor being offered and respectfully declining. "I will see my Lord and my warriors from the battlefield, and remember your aid to him."

"That is all I ask for it," Starscream canted his wings respectfully to the First Chosen and First Lieutenant of the sire of the mech he was attempting to court. "Somebody get that 'path already!" he bellowed at the organized chaos that was his forces.

* * *

The medical wing of the House of Shining Sun was still full of the recovering, and Jazz had arrived early enough to check on some of warriors he knew were out of stasis and on their way to recovery.

Satisfied with the progress and the level of good spirit, he proceeded back to the private corner of the ward. Prowl had been unconscious when he had arrived, and Keepsafe had elected to keep him under medical stasis once she saw the extent of the damage.

The missing sensor wing panel that had been sent to Jazz was just one of many injuries that Praxian Lord had suffered both on the battlefield and after his capture. That fact that he had been kept on starvation rations during his imprisonment had not helped matters either.

But Keepsafe had finally contacted Jazz today to inform that she was ready to lift the medical induced stasis, and given him a time. When his mate would actually regain functioning once the stasis was lifted was anyone's guess, but Jazz had found a few breems to at least see Prowl repaired and hope that his mate would have a moment or two of consciousness to share as he entered the private room.

He wasn't the least bit surprised to see Thunderstorm there. Of all Prowl's creations, the one he carried was still the closest to him. Stardancer was also holding her second sparkling, a slender and feisty mech less than twenty vorns old. Noting who was missing also reminded Jazz of the advantage of having a large and well-trained family; they took much of the burden when things got tough.

Jazz greeted them all, taking the sparkling and bouncing the little one until he was giggling in delight before handing him back over, soothed by holding such an innocent spark, even if it was not one that had come from his own.

His gaze slid over the unconscious mech, still facedown on the berth from the last of the repairs to his sensor panels. On the surface his mate looked almost whole and complete, but Jazz had not forgotten the mental slowness so uncharacteristic of his mate and the fuzziness of the bond the last time they had spoken, and his spark would not be completely settled until it was sure that Prowl was well and whole.

"I know you are all eager to speak to him, but please remember that just because I am lifting the medical stasis does not mean he will wake, as he would from a normal surgery," Keepsafe reminded them. "He may remain in recharge for orns if his systems need it."

"We know." Stardancer told her, nuzzling her sparkling's helm gently as the little one wiggled in her arms.

Jazz stepped closer, enough so that his field touched his mate with ease but not so close that Keepsafe would have reason to get after him, or that he would be in danger if Prowl were to start awake and react before his processor was fully functioning. Given how he'd gone down, that was more likely than Jazz cared to think about. He knew Stardancer was keeping distance for exactly that reason.

With a nod Keepsafe moved forward and connected to Prowl to carefully undo the locks she'd put in place to keep him under while she put him back together. She smiled slightly when she felt his consciousness rise into normal recharge and stabilize there.

"He has accepted the directive to stand down from battle readiness," she said with real relief. "He's in normal recharge now. He'll feel your sparks if you reach for him."

The permission was too much for Jazz, and he dropped the block on the bond without even trying to slow the flood of emotion across it. Relief, worry, and all the love he felt for the mech arranged on the berth before washed across the connection as he stepped closer, daring to take Prowl's hand in his own even if there was to be no response in the moment.

On the other side of the bond emotions exploded. Relief. Love. Pride. Gratitude. But most of all, _safe_. Prowl was in recharge, but that didn't mean he wasn't _feeling_.

Jazz caught himself on the edge of the berth as his entire frame sagged in relief. Across the room Stardancer's wings fell from their tense hold as she received a response as well.

"He's all right." Jazz murmured without really thinking, just happy that Prowl was there and responding.

"Good," Keepsafe relaxed herself.

"Is he going to wake up?" Thunderstorm asked, his voice low out of respect for his carrier.

"He's trying." Jazz said, feeling the shifting effort in his mate and simply offering acceptance and support for whatever Prowl could manage.

Silence fell as Prowl struggled to force his sluggish, freshly repaired systems to give him a klik or two of consciousness before sinking fully into the recharge he knew he needed so badly. He wanted his own berth. He wanted to be on his back. He wanted a warm frame snuggled against his, preferably two.

Gradually golden optics lit, dimly, and Prowl tipped his helm to face Jazz. He couldn't focus, but he _knew_ it was his mate, his love, and the pulse of grateful recognition through the bond confirmed it.

~Won or lost?~ Prowl needed to know.

Jazz leaned forward to kiss his mate, gentle and chaste but so very full of welcome and love.

~Won, at least so far that Megatron is no longer functioning. A fact we will need to discuss later.~ Jazz informed him gently. ~The House is recovering. And waiting for their Lord to be up and leading them once more.~

~They will have to accept you for more orns,~ Prowl murmured with regret, already feeling his strength fading. ~I doubt I could roll over right now, much less reach our berth.~

~Once you have rested.~ Jazz promised with another kiss. ~Thunderstorm and Stardancer are here.~ He added, glancing at their second creation in invitation and twitching a wing at Stardancer.

Instead of turning his helm, and thus having to lift his body a bit, Prowl twitched his wing in greeting to the pair.

Stardancer approached and leaned down to kiss Prowl lightly, just catching the sparkling's hand before he patted his creator. ~We were worried. Rest, and when you are well Macris has new tricks to show you.~

~Look forward to it,~ Prowl responded.

"We were so worried about you, creator," Thunderstorm murmured as he placed a hand on Prowl's shoulder just above the wing joint. "Recharge. I will take you to your berth when Keepsafe allows it."

Prowl murmured and allowed his optics to power down as he drifted into a deep recharge for healing.

Jazz continued to stroke his mate's armor until he felt Prowl settle completely into recharge before stepping back and looking to Keepsafe. "How long before you'll release him?"

"If all continues to go well, he may recharge in his own berth tonight," she responded with a smile. "He is past any significant danger."

Stardancer's wings fluttered hopefully, Jazz's flicked in response as he looked to Thunderstorm. "Comm me when you move him. If I return to work now I should have things done by this evening."

"Yes, creator," Thunderstorm flicked his wings in a promise. "Is there anything I can help with?"

"I believe some of the warriors were cleared to return to active duty this orn. The sooner we can get them back into the rotation the easier it will be on all of those on duty. Can you see to the roster?" Jazz asked, sorting through the long list of tasks still before him before he could rejoin his mate for recharge.

"Yes, creator," he agreed easily, turning on heal to see to it.

Jazz watched as Stardancer left with Macris, off to deposit the sparkling with his guardian and see to her own duties about the House. She had blossomed under Prowl's approval and how much he entrusted her with, and the two strong, healthy sparklings had given her even more confidence in her place. She didn't even see how much of a relief it was to Prowl and Jazz to have those domestic duties off of their list of responsibilities.


	27. Rebuilding

Jazz stretched his sensor wings before folding them flat and making his way down the hall to the Lord's suite. It had been a long orn, and all he wanted to do was to get back and settle into the berth with Prowl and Stardancer for the night.

The outer door opened to his code, and he crossed the central room of the suite, noting that the nursery was already quiet and closed for the night. So it was no surprise when he opened to door the master berthroom to find two frames already stretched out comfortably on the large berth.

"Stardancer." Jazz murmured, greeting the femme that seemed to be well on her way to recharge before focusing on Prowl. ~Love.~

~Love,~ golden optics brightened slightly as his mate looked up and smiled warmly in greeting. ~Your orn was a long one.~

~But it is hopefully over now, and I am here.~ Jazz replied as he slipped gracefully on to the berth and kissed Prowl. A strong arm wrapped around him, drawing him closer as Prowl sought another kiss that was willingly given as Jazz sank against him.

~I have missed you,~ Prowl murmured. ~I miss being strong enough to perform my function.~

~I know you have love. The House looks forward to your return. I am a poor substitute.~

~You are a _fine_ Lord,~ Prowl said firmly as he kissed Jazz's forehelm. ~You saved the House from a far worse disaster than it had already suffered that orn.~

~I had fine teachers.~ Jazz countered as he settled beside his mate, arranging limbs and wings so that he was thoroughly entwined with Prowl. He felt Stardancer shift with them, snuggling against Prowl even in recharge. ~The House is recovering. It is strong. But morale will be better when you are seen for yourself and functioning.~

~Agreed. We have survived worse, though it was generations ago,~ Prowl murmured, though it did nothing to make his spark ache less for his lost mecha. ~There will be _many_ sparklings in the next hand of vorns. In five hundred vorns we will have more skilled warriors than we would have without this. It does not hurt any less knowing that.~

A small smile appeared on Jazz's features. ~Which is why Keepsafe said you may venture out for a little tomorrow if you wish.~

That brightened Prowl's optics right through his frame. ~I would _welcome_ a meal in the warrior's mess. Even if I must lean on you, I will be in better shape than the last time they saw me.~

~Then choose the meal, and I will do my best to see that my schedule is clear. Or you know that Thunderstorm will escort you.~ Jazz said, his field brightening with his mate's after the shadow of the reminder of those lost. ~He was greatly worried for you. He tracked down Lord Soundwave himself.~

Another flicker of surprise, then burst of pride. ~That is quite a prize. So they are a subordinate House to us now. That will be interesting. How well do you know Skybeam and Sounder?~

~Well enough. We got into trouble as younglings together that I think my sire's second bonded still does not know about.~ Jazz's visor flashed with wicked humor before dimming down to seriousness again. ~Sire trusts them, as does Cadence.~

~We will need someone to take control of House Mindsweeper. It all but has to be a telepath, given the House's penchant for producing them,~ Prowl said quietly. ~And he is at least familiar with them, I would think. It is a stretch, but as the brother to my bonded, Skybeam is kin to me now.~

~He is the youngest next to me, and a warrior, though Sounder is a political. Kin.~ Jazz mused for a moment. ~They will keep it well until you find someone to rule it. Or they might even consider formal adoption if you are pleased with their management.~

~Then would you contact them and Lord Crossbeam about it in the morning?~ Prowl requested. ~The sooner we have a trusted pair of optics there the better. I do not expect they will take to Praxian rule well.~

~Yes, I will contact them all in the morning. And the sooner we can get that set up and the official changes submitted, the better.~ Jazz nuzzled Prowl gently. ~We are probably going to be hearing from the Royal House of Vos soon as well.~

Prowl sighed. ~Starscream is many things, including _persistent_ ,~ he nearly growled.

His mate vented softly, the warm air rushing over Prowl as Jazz pulled away slightly, and edge of shame in his field. ~He saved your life, and probably mine and all of those with me as well. I promised him I would remember this fact to you, the next time he came calling.~

Shock filtered through the bond. ~ _Starscream_? Not Thunderstorm?~

~It was Starscream who slew Megatron in the ambush.~ Jazz informed him, offering the memory to his mate. The terror he had felt when he had seen the cannon aimed at his mate, the determination to prevent Prowl's deactivation and the loss to the House whatever the cost. The shame he still felt over the fact.

~No shame is yours to bear,~ Prowl told him firmly. ~It was my failure, the failure of my plans that created the situation in the first place. You saved my Guard, love. Manchet tells me you lead admirably when I was captured. Though he still refuses to give me a list of losses.~

~Keepsafe's orders,~ Jazz said gently, the bond full of love and thanks for the forgiveness that Prowl offered. ~She intends to do that herself.~

Prowl huffed in annoyance, but accepted it. ~Starscream really brought that many trines ... and offered you Megatron's helm?~

~Yes, to both. His forces allowed us to retreat without further casualties, and I refused his offer of the kill. It was not mine.~ Jazz explained with simple conviction.

~Still, to offer...~ Prowl murmured, amazed at the implications of it. ~He really wants Thunderstorm, badly.~

~Yes, he does. It might be time to talk to Thunderstorm.~ Jazz suggested, even though the idea of their second creation leaving them twisted his spark.

~He's made his wishes very clear, and often,~ Prowl murmured. ~I can not fault Starscream's treatment of him. I can not deny it would be an exceptional bonding for the House and for him.~ He huffed unhappily. ~My creation is correct. What Starscream did to me does not mean Thunderstorm is so affected. He has always been more adaptable than I to chaos.~

~Thunderstorm is strong. He is intelligent. And Starscream has even admitted that he seeks to build a trine. A third balance may well be enough to keep him in check.~ Jazz offered his own logic.

~I don't want him to leave,~ Prowl admitted to his core objection. ~He's the only creation I will ever carry.~

~I know love.~ Jazz held him tighter. It was the reason he had been so relieved when the mech that was seriously courting Bladesinger was of lower status. ~And he does as well. Not even Starscream will be able to make him forget that fact.~

~If Starscream asks again, I will no longer object,~ Prowl said painfully. ~We raised him well. Taught him to think for himself. To value himself. If he still wishes to be with Starscream, I need to let him go.~

~He will not forget us love.~ Jazz said with conviction, kissing Prowl soothingly. It was a contact that was accepted and sought more of. A touch that most nights would lead to passionate interfacing, a mood that begged for a merge had to be content with the most gentle and chaste of touches now. Prowl was not yet strong enough for more.

~And we can have another one love, once Keepsafe says you are clear.~ Jazz offered, almost pleaded through the contact. It wasn't the same as Prowl carrying- he knew this- but maybe it would be enough to ease his mate's distress some.

~It has been a while,~ Prowl rumbled, the flicker of desire bright in his spark at the thought of creating a new life with his mate. ~It would make the House feel better, knowing that we both returned strong enough to create another life. It would be a joyous event. For us and the House.~

~Once you are cleared.~ Jazz promised, spark singing at the thought and happiness and hope it brought. ~For the House. And for us.~

~For the future,~ Prowl agreed, claiming a kiss with as much passion as his recovering frame could muster.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Fandom** : Transformers G1 Pre-war AU  
>  **Author** : gatekat, starsheild on LJ  
>  **Main Pairing** : Jazz/Prowl  
>  **Secondary Pairings** : Softlight/Prowl/Surestrike, Prowl/Coda, Prowl/Songbird, Prowl/Stardancer/Jazz  
>  **Rating** : NC-17  
>  **Codes** : Arranged Bonding, First Time, Tactile, Sticky, Spark, Mechpreg, Birth, Sparklings, Death, Abortion, Violence  
>  **Summary** : When Jazz is forced to bond with a higher-ranking noble sight unseen, he fears his freedom is over.  
>  **Disclaimer** : The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page http://www.gatekat-fics.livejournal.com/290.html We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.  
>  **Notes** : Prowl is my tri-wing design: http://www.alteride.deviantart.com/art/Commission-Resonance-Prowl-254774764  
> nanoklik = 1/8 second  
> klik = 496 nanokliks/62 seconds;  
> breem = 8 kliks/8.27 minutes;  
> groon = 9 breem/1.24 hours;  
> joor = 6 groon/7.44 hours;  
> orn = 42 joor/13.02 days;  
> decaorn = 32 orns/1.14 years;  
> metacycle = 8 decaorn/9.22 years;  
> vorn = 9 metacycles/72 decaorn/83 years;  
> ::text:: comm chatter  
> ~text~ hardline/bond chatter


End file.
